To Let You Go
by CharloBlack
Summary: On the morning of Remus and Tonks wedding Hermione falls victim to one of the Weasley twins’ experiments and is accidentally thrown 20 years into the past. Only one thing remains certain, horrible things happen to those who meddle with time… RLHG
1. Chapter 1: Moving On

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

_...Remus..._

Dumbledore is dead.

Snape did it.

And all I can think of is her.

Her, who is finishing her sixth year. Her _sixth_ year.

It can't be right. It doesn't match up.

I shake my head to try and somehow make everything fit back into place. I don't want to think about what all this means for her; for me.

I have waited so long for...but now…have I waited for nothing?

When I had first lost her Dumbledore had assured me that she would come back to me eventually, albeit there would be somewhat of an age gap. I had trusted him. After all when is Dumbledore ever wrong?

_Snape._

_He was wrong about Snape_…

I had even had my own doubts about her return after what had happened to James and Lilly. Surely if she had known she would have warned us, she wouldn't have allowed Peter to get away with it; she wouldn't have allowed Sirius to waste away in Azkaban for it. She just wouldn't.

And she was friends with Snape.

How could she be friend's with Dumbledore's murderer. Even if she had been told not to meddle with time, she didn't have to be _friends_ with him.

And then there was just this. Her _sixth _year – over.

It should have happened by now.

She should have come back to me.

Maybe it has been too long. Maybe I am forgetting some small but crucial details. Maybe…maybe in the way she looked at us sometimes, so knowingly…maybe it could still happen…maybe..

But I know I am clutching onto false hope and oh but how I need that hope, more than air itself.

I mentally smack myself over the head for even having such a thought.

I know it is unhealthy to keep going like this.

I need to move on for my sake, and for hers.

It is so hard just to look at her, now, when she is so similar to my own, but just not quite the same.

I felt so paedophilic when I taught her in her third year – herself a smart and bubbly young child and myself an old and tired werewolf.

Would she have even wanted me if she returned?

I don't know anymore.

I feel so confused.

Through the mist of my thoughts, I feel someone place a hand on my shoulder.

Like an anchor it pulls me back into the conscious world and I realise I am still sitting in the same chair, in the hospital wing. And Harry is standing there looking at me in a way I have never seen before.

I know I must look a mess. Thank Merlin he will assume it is because of the news he has just told us, without knowing the repercussions of that news for myself.

The hand is still on my shoulder and with effort I bring my eyes up to see the worried and exasperated face of Tonks.

I sigh.

I know how she feels about me and I push her away with excuses of my age and my lycranthopy.

I see in her eyes that they will not hold much longer.

But then perhaps I shouldn't be pushing her away.

I need to move on, and it's not that I don't like Tonks in that way…I've just never allowed myself to.

Molly says that I deserve to be happy. I mentally laugh, as I imagine her face if I was to tell her which 17 yr old girl would make me happy.

But she is not an option. Not anymore.

The girl that I know is not the girl that I loved. _She_ was lost in the folds of time. And now I must face the harsh truth that she will never be returned to me.

It is time to let her go.

I feel my heart constrict as if in defiance of my decision, as if it would rather kill us both than live without her. But I tell it, even if I'm not sure that I believe it myself, that there will be something else. Something else that will be worth living for, if we just hold on.

The hand on my shoulder tightens gently and Tonks is saying something to me…


	2. Chapter 2: Running Late

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

On the morning of Remus Lupin and Nymphodora Tonks' wedding, Hermione Granger woke up late.

For anyone who knows Hermione they would not need it to be explained that this is an unusual event. Hermione Granger being late or unprepared for anything had just never happened before.

Perhaps if she hadn't have over slept she would have taken more care.

Perhaps if she hadn't have been so rushed in grabbing her bridesmaid's dress from its hanging in the spare room she would have thought twice about picking up a box of unknown magical items that she had knocked over in her haste.

You would at the very least think that someone as smart as her would definitely _never_ touch anything from a box with "WWW-experiments" on the side knowing, like she did, that the Weasley twins had a habit of leaving dangerous items around.

But then again perhaps we should not be so harsh; after all she was awfully tired and exhausted – even more so than normal for one who spends so many nights up-late studying. For the last three months she had been working on continuing Dumbledore's search for Tom Riddle's Horcruxes with Harry and Ron; or as she privately mused working _for_ Harry and Ron as they never seemed to want to do any actual work – "It's not like You-Know-Who has written a book on 'Where to find my Horcruxes'" Ron would argue.

It was now September 1st – the day she should have been starting her seventh and final year at Hogwarts but instead was preparing to go Horcrux hunting with her two best friends.

Not that she complained. This was all to help Harry and she would do anything to help him. Hermione didn't have any siblings but she imagined that if she did she would feel for Harry something akin to the love one would feel for a brother.

They had planned to leave straight after Bill and Fleur's wedding but when Remus and Tonks' wedding had been announced to be held so soon after they had agreed to stay on the private agreement that they would be leaving no later than the day after.

Now, as it happened, Hermione found herself clutching onto a (in her opinion) horrid pink silk gown wearing only the matching pink silk underwear and scrambling around the floor to pick up the scattered and rolling items that she had knocked from the precariously placed box.

Exasperated, she set the gown down on the floor next to her and laid down upon the ground stretching out her arm to reach a greenish orb-looking item that had rolled far under the table.

It was at this moment that her red-haired younger friend and co-bridesmaid, Ginny, appeared at the door, already fully dressed but her hair hanging damp around her shoulders.

"Hermione, Mum says we have twenty minutes till the hairdresser comes."

And then she disappeared, obviously feeling as rushed as Hermione but more used to it after growing up at the Burrow.

"Twenty?" Hermione cried, disgruntled at her own lateness.

But she never heard an answer from Ginny, because it was at that same moment that she had spoken that her hand had finally found the green orb.

As soon as the sound had left her mouth a warm tingling sensation had washed over her starting from her fingertips which were wrapped around the orb and swathing her entire body in heat. In less than a second this feeling was replaced by a violent tugging, almost like that which one would feel travelling by portkey but much more painful. And then there was only darkness.


	3. Chapter 3: Hit by a Hippogriff

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Hermione rolled over onto her side and let out a painful groan.

She felt like she had been hit by a Hippogriff.

Disorientated and dazed she could barely make out anything a foot away from her but she managed to awkwardly stand, one hand clutching her stomach.

She thought about calling out for help but didn't trust herself to open her mouth – it was an effort enough not to throw up.

She stood for a minute using her free hand to steady herself on the wall beside her.

Waiting for the pain to subside, the room around her gradually swam into view.

It was definitely the same room but…different. Cleaner. And where had all the boxes gone?

Her stomach lurched and Hermione doubled over from the waist, her hand abandoning the wall and covering her mouth.

Deciding not to think too much about the changed room, she awkwardly stumbled towards the closed door – _Hadn't it been open? – _her thoughts instead on a stomach settling potion.

However what she found on the other side of the door did nothing to help her stomach.

Voices that had been indistinguishable from inside the closed room now floated clearly through the half opened doorway.

Someway down the hall a young boy that looked to be around Hermione's age was in the midst of a verbal match with an older woman.

The boy's back was turned but the woman was facing towards Hermione and her identity if not obvious from her screeching voice was clear from Hermione's view.

Mrs Black's screams of outrage and distaste were once again filling the hallways of 12 Grimmauld Place but this time however they were not coming from a portrait and would be a lot harder to quell than with a curtain.

Hermione turned away from the scene resting her back against the wall, breathing hard.

The room before her suddenly made a lot more sense, not that it was a good sense.

But that was a problem she would think about later, right now she had more pressing issues – namely, she was stuck in the room of a house full of mudblood-hating purebloods and she had to think of a way to get out.

Although they may not be able to tell her muggleborn status from first look she doubted the Blacks were known for their hospitality to strange girls that wandered into their house.

Hermione slid her back quietly down the wall and on her hands and knees started searching for her wand, hoping with all her might to find it where she had woken.

Luck didn't seem to be on Hermione's side this morning.

Wandless and weak to the stomach Hermione ran through her only remaining options. Her immediate thought was Sirius, but from the snippets of the fight she was catching from outside the door, which was interspersed with words such as "blood-traitors" and "disgrace", Hermione gathered it was likely that the young boy outside was in fact Sirius and he wasn't exactly approachable right now. If the fighting stopped and the woman left she thought that she might be able to approach him then. He would at least not hex her on sight…she hoped.

However hope of waiting was immediately thrown out of the water when sharp footsteps signalled movement towards her room.

There was no where to hide in the small room and so Hermione gathered what little strength she had and thought of perhaps the one person who perhaps could help her Albus Dumbledore, and the one place that has always been safe Hogwarts.

Hermione, being as well read in _Hogwarts a History_ as the headmaster himself, knew she couldn't directly apparate inside school grounds so she had aimed for Hogsmeade instead.

With a soft _pop_ she had found herself, thankfully with all four limbs attached, on the streets of Hogsmeade a little bit up from the Three Broomsticks.

However she did not have much time to celebrate her attached limbs before a cold wind made her uncomfortably aware of her half dressed state.

Unaware until now, she was still only dressed in her pink wedding-ready lingerie.

The streets were thankfully bare but with her quickly bluing skin and the amount of energy her apparition had taken she doubted whether she would make it all the way up to Hogwarts in her current state.

Not knowing what else to do, but hoping a teacher might be out for a drink, Hermione, hunched over and still holding her stomach, staggered up the street towards the Three Broomsticks.

Opening the door and stepping inside, she had little more than two seconds to enjoy the warmth of the pub before her body finally gave out, her legs crumpling beneath her, leaving Hermione once again swathed in darkness.


	4. Chapter 4: Waking Up For a Third

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

When Hermione woke for the third time that day, this time it was at least to find herself tucked into a warm bed.

She barely registered the familiar surroundings of the Hogwarts hospital wing before her stomach gave another horrible lurch and this time, unprepared, Hermione lent over the bed and emptied her stomach.

Feeling boneless and exhausted she let her body hang half over the edge of the bed, her hair falling limply over her head and surrounding her vision like a curtain.

After a minute she felt the gentle push of hands against her shoulders, guiding her lithe frame back onto the pillows.

Her hair was brushed out of her face and she recognised a much younger Madame Pomfrey holding a pale pink vile.

Obligingly Hermione opened her mouth and allowed the woman to administer the potion.

The potion felt like heaven to Hermione's dry throat as it slithered down, eradicating the acid-like residue left from her retching.

Gradually Hermione felt the potion taking effect until a few minutes later she was able to push herself up into a seated position in her bed and the reality of her situation became for the first time very clear.

She needed to speak with Dumbledore.

As if sensing Hermione's designs for leaving her bed, the ever hawk-like presence of Madame Pomfrey appeared before Hermione had even pulled back her covers.

"Oh no, you don't Missy," the hospital Matron snipped in her familiar admonishing tone.

"I need to speak with Headmaster Dumbledore," Hermione tried to speak authoritatively but in fact only ended up supporting the Matron by showing her very scratchy voice.

Madame Pomfrey merely raised an eyebrow at Hermione's attempt and disgruntled Hermione followed her silent command and fell back onto the pillows.

At least grateful for the Matron for so far not asking any questions as to Hermione's state, Hermione wondered how she must have ended up in the hospital wing, the last thing she remembered being entering the pub.

Had a teacher brought her here?

Her face must have betrayed her thoughts for Madame Pomfrey started to speak through her wonderings.

"You're lucky Madame Rosmerta thought to bring you here so quickly," Madame Pomfrey's voice admonished but with a slightly gentler tone, as she tucked Hermione tightly back into her bed. "She said you collapsed right at her door."

"Could have frozen to death…honestly"

The Matron shook her head and continued to mutter half to herself as she retreated back into her office returning moments later with another potion, this time a blue one.

Hermione accepted the vile gratefully and handed the empty vile back once she had downed the contents.

Hermione wasn't sure what either of the potions she had been given were exactly; but in her weak state she had eagerly accepted the first and, since no harm had come of that, she had no worry in accepting the second.

It was Madame Pomfrey after all, no matter what year it might be.

As the potion took effect, doing whatever it was designed to do, she shifted in her bed nestling herself between the pillows thinking of all she must do.

First of all she thought back to all that she had been taught of time travel.

_You must not be seen._

Well it was too late for that.

But then should she tell anyone?

She obviously needed help for in all of her extensive reading she could not remember one instance where she had come across such time travel and she had never heard of anything similar to _forward_ travel.

_Yes_, she decided. She needed to get back as soon as possible before she caused more damage then she had possibly done already and the quickest way was to achieve that was to ask for help. Even if she could find a way back herself she had no idea how long that could take and hadn't Dumbledore once said to Harry 'that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it'? We'll kind of to Harry anyway, she thought, remembering that he had in fact been hidden under the invisibility cloak at the time. But that was beside the point.

Before she could ponder anymore in the muddle her thoughts where creating the doors to the infirmary opened admitting the very person she was hoping for.

For a moment Hermione was hit with a sudden sadness, although Albus Dumbledore was still the owner of a very long silver beard long enough to be tucked into his belt, the effect that the war would have on the aging wizard was clearly evident in his considerably smoother face.

The worry lines that Hermione had grown so accustomed to seeing on his face were not yet to mare this younger Dumbledore. The difference was so apparent that it was obviously accountable to more than just the time passed.

By the time she had finished her scrutinizing of the Headmaster he had already spoken words with the hospital Matron, closed the curtains around her bed, taken a seat beside her and poured two cups of tea.

Hermione took her cup of tea, cautiously sitting up in her bed.

"Do not worry, Poppy is in her office," Dumbledore watched her nervously rising from the pillows, that familiar twinkle in his eyes.

Hermione smiled sheepishly at him of his noticing her paranoia of being scolded by the witch.

"Now then," he continued. "You wanted to talk to me?"


	5. Chapter 5: My Second Sixth Year?

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

For three hours Hermione sat in the Hogwarts infirmary talking with Dumbledore. The first hour she spent delicately explaining her situation. She conceded to tell him her true full name, despite her initial apprehension to do so. She told him how she believed to have happened to be the victim of this time shift, having by herself (correctly) pieced together the likely-hood of a wayward Weasley experiment. She told him as much of herself as she believed she safely could; that is without revealing anymore names. And lastly she implored of him to help her.

Dumbledore, silently impressed with the young Witch's initiative of respect for the delicate balance of time, was only too eager to help his future student. However, as the second hour of their discussion revealed – for once (in Hermione's experience at least) the wise Wizard was at a loss of how to do so.

Hermione's discouraged and disappointed expression at this news was too much for the old Wizard to bear and the hence the third hour was spent discussing what they would do in the meantime, whilst Dumbledore would try to help Hermione.

Dumbledore explained to Hermione that he too had never heard of such a large time-jump in any of his extensive research of Wizarding history but nevertheless promised to help her as best he can and to get in contact with some old of his old colleagues that might be of more help. However since this problem might take some time to remedy, whilst he would be assisting Hermione he insisted that she must also attend Hogwarts.

"But a student entering Hogwarts later than their 2nd year is almost unheard of Professor," Hermione gasped. "I mean, in _Hogwarts a History_ I read that it has only happened _once_!"

Dumbledore looked at her curiously for a moment before his expression returned to its naturally twinkling state. When he spoke no further Hermione continued.

"And I would really much rather assist you, Professor," Hermione argued.

"I wouldn't be able to stand sitting back and doing nothing whilst I might at the same time be doing irreversible damage to this time. I wouldn't be a hindrance, really I – "

She was stopped by Dumbledore putting up his hand.

"Hermione," he spoke gently. "Please do not believe me to be insulting your intelligence. There is really no question that you are an outstandingly bright young witch."

Hermione couldn't hide her blush.

"But," he continued slightly more solemn. "There is a fact we must face, that unfortunately there is a …_possibility_, that we might not be able to reach a solution. That is to say – "

"– I might be stuck here." Hermione finished for him.

Dumbledore nodded sadly.

"I think it is best that you continue your education, here at Hogwarts, so that in that case you may be able to continue… living in this time."

Hermione, looking down at her hands, slowly nodded – conceding that he's reasoning made sense.

"What year would you be entering this year, my dear?" Dumbledore asked, after some time.

"My seventh."

"We'll then, considering your great time displacement, might I make a suggestion?" Dumbledore asked, peering at Hermione over his half moon spectacles.

"Of course," she replied automatically.

"Well, considering that our curriculum changes yearly and you have come back two decades, I expect there would be quite some difference."

Hermione nodded not quite following where he was heading but inwardly groaning at thought of the extra work that would inevitably hinder the time she would need to do her own time-travel research that she was mentally planning.

"Well, if it was agreeable to yourself, I was going to suggest that you might repeat your sixth year here. That is of course the year that the Newts curriculum starts and it might be easier for you to start from that point rather than try to catch up on it in addition to your seventh year studies."

Hermione smiled, quite agreeable to the idea of less work.

"Of course, less work would also mean more time to study on… _other_ things… in our infamous library perhaps?" Dumbledore twinkled amusedly.

Hermione blushed again, confirming his suspicions.

"Very well then," he concluded that topic.

As the sun slowly disappeared behind the mountains surrounding the castle, the young girl and her Headmaster sat beside the hospital bed analysing the details for her upcoming (second) sixth year of Hogwarts.

Sometime after Madame Pomfrey had been by to light the white tapers that adorned the infirmary's walls. Dumbledore stood beckoning Hermione to do the same.

With a wave of his wand he transfigured her hospital gown into a (rather nice) set of Hogwarts robes.

"Well, we better be going down before they start the feast without us," he said merrily.

"Feast?" Hermione said, slightly perplexed.

"Why of course, it's September 1st after all," he said sweeping out the hospital doors.

Hermione stifled a laugh at her own stupidity at never even asking the date. Nevertheless she knew now.

'_Exactly_ 20 years' she thought, as she followed the Headmaster down the stairs and to the slowly increasing unmistakable rumble of the students that were currently filing the Great Hall.


	6. Chapter 6: I'm Lily Evans

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Thankfully Hermione was not made to wait with the first year students. The Headmaster had kindly offered for her to forgo the sorting process and simply be put into her future house.

However she still felt as nervous as a first year, if not more than.

Although she suspected that much of the staff would still be the same, guessing from their much speculated ages (although she doubted George's reasoning that Flitwick was 300 and hence had been shrinking for the last 200 years), and therefore she would already know some people she had to remind herself that they did not know her.

When they arrived at the Great Hall it appeared that the students were still filtering in from the carriages, most already inside but the dawdlers slowly streaming in.

Hermione followed Dumbledore through the large doors and towards the Gryffindor table.

Being lead by Dumbledore into such a familiar place made Hermione almost wonder of the realness of her situation.

Her musings were stopped quite forcefully however when unbeknownst to her Dumbledore had stopped midway down the table and Hermione had run quite literally into him.

"S- Sorry Professor," she blushed as she stumbled a bit.

"Don't worry dear, no harm done," he twinkled merrily before he turned his attentions to a girl in front of them.

The girl had vibrant red long hair that looked so smooth and soft Hermione felt her hand twitch just wanting to touch it. She really was very pretty and had sparkling green eyes, _just like_…

"Miss Evans, I was hoping you might be able to help me. This here," he gestured to Hermione, "is Miss Hermione Granger. She is a transfer student and is starting Hogwarts this year in her sixth year. I trust as a prefect I can entrust her to you to show her around."

Hermione smiled trying to hide her shock; she hadn't even considered that she might recognise some of the students. She supposed that all the adult wizards and witches she knew looked a lot older than twenty years difference from her own age. It was also a shocking reminder of the effect the war was to have on these people. Her head whipped around surveying the faces of the Gryffindor table with interest looking for those familiar faces that should accompany this red-heads presence.

Meanwhile the red-head was seemingly swelling at Dumbledore's implied praise. Only to eager to please she said "Of course Professor, she is entirely safe with me."

"Very good to hear," he winked at Hermione. "I will see that your things are delivered to your room for you tonight."

"Thankyou Professor Dumbledore," Hermione smiled shyly.

Hermione having obviously brought nothing with her during her time trip had embarrassedly pointed this out to the Headmaster during their discussion in the hospital wing to which he had waved away any of her insecurities and assured her that the school had special funds for situations such as these (not that is particular situation had occurred before) and that she should think nothing of it. He had assured her that she would simply become a ward of the school until she finished her seventh year (a time in itself Hermione hoped not to stay until).

Dumbledore gave her a small nod and swept up to the head table leaving Hermione with the pretty girl.

"Hi I'm Lily Evans," the girl extended her hand. "I'm sixth year too –"

CRASH. As one the whole hall turned towards the entrance hall where the sound had come from, some even standing on their seats to get a better view, all that is except Lily.

"– and _that_ would be the marauders," she finished with an eye roll.

Hermione tried not to laugh at the girl's exasperated response, but her efforts where lost when seconds later a black haired boy ran into the hall closely followed by an irate and frazzled looking Professor McGonagall.

"SIRIUS BLACK," her voice reverberated around the hall. "You – you – you haven't even made it into the Great Hall this time before – before –"

Without turning from the scene in front of her, Hermione could see out of the corner of her eye even Dumbledore was chuckling at the commotion. Hermione couldn't even remember Fred and George getting Professor McGonagall this irate – well to be fair maybe she could – but this would come a close second.

"Madam, I'm offended," Sirius interrupted with impressive false shock.

Hermione could see at least ten girls at the long table adjacent to hers practically swoon at his voice; _I guess Sirius really was the lady's man_ she thought amusedly.

"You immediately presume me to be the offender, honestly, why would I want to start my sixth year off on such a foot, I guarantee you –"

"Enough Mr Black," McGonagall interrupted, looking very close to throttling him.

"If I'm not very much mistaken," she continued. "I'd also wager that a – ahh yes Mr Potter, how nice of you to join us."

Hermione turned to see a boy with messy black hair, slightly taller than Sirius, trying to slink nonchalantly into the hall.

"What? Me?" he said smoothly, with same cool confidence that Sirius exuded.

"Do not insult me further by trying to fool me Potter; I know that whatever one of you two does the other is never far behind. Detention. The both of you. Tomorrow night."

She looked about ready to literally explode if they were to say anything more and the boys seemed to have picked up as much as they merely shrugged and sauntered over to the Gryffindor table.


	7. Chapter 7: Caught Blue Handed

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Hermione found herself desperately wanting to know what the boys had done to irritate Professor McGonagall so. When a small group of boys that appeared to be around second years bounded up to the table with huge grins and obviously struggling to contain their mirth, Hermione opened her mouth about to ask them just that. However one look at the virtual steam coming from Lily's ears and the girl's determined glare at the offensive marauders as they approached their table was enough to make her shut her mouth.

James seemed to have spotted Lily and adjusted his course to the part of the table opposite to where they were standing.

Hermione thought James must be either oblivious to Lily's anger (although she didn't know how this was possible, imagining even if her hair had become real flames she wouldn't appear angrier) or he simply didn't care.

Sirius on the other hand had obviously perceived the girl's mood and looked at his friend in no less horror than if James had told him he was about to moon Voldemort.

Sirius followed, with obvious reluctance, and behind James as if using him as a shield from Lily's flame-throwing-fury.

James, smiling stupidly, took a seat across from where the girls still stood, but before he even had a chance to speak Lilly had cut him off.

"I don't even _want _to know this time James Potter!" Lily scolded taking a hold of Hermione's hand and yanking her down to the bench opposite to where the boys had just sat.

"But Lils –" James pouted, his face falling adorably.

He seemed so sincere. Hermione couldn't contain a small giggle.

Sirius brightened seeing that someone seemed normal and wasn't going to yell at him, he scooted slightly away from James, and placed himself directly in front of Hermione.

"Hi," Hermione said shyly, blushing to her embarrassment. After all she had known Sirius for two years before his death and hadn't been embarrassed about talking to him before. _But then he hadn't been so dreamy, had he? _That annoying voice in her head reminded her.

Hermione shook herself mentally. Since when did Hermione Granger say '_dreamy'_; even if it was only in her head?

"The name's Black, Sirius Black." He said with a smirk, holding out his hand for Hermione to take.

Hermione laughed out loud and Lily swatted his hand away before Hermione had time to return the gesture.

"Does he – does he – even know where that comes from?" Hermione struggled to make out through her giggles.

"Unfortunately yes," came a new voice from Hermione's right. "Under a misguided attempt to Muggle literate the fellow I introduced him to the glory of James Bond this summer. You have no idea how long he has been waiting to try that out on someone."

Hermione's giggles got caught in her throat at the sight of Remus Lupin smiling at her. His sandy blonde hair was just a tad too long and fell into his eyes, which themselves were a dazzling blue that seemed too unnatural for eyes to be. Added on top of that his gorgeous smile Hermione couldn't believe that anyone would ever say that Sirius and James were good looking compared to this _God_.

Her blush deepened to Weasley level worthy.

"Her- Hermione," she said extending her hand the short distance to Remus.

He took her hand, but instead of shaking it, brought it up to his lips and brushed a soft kiss across the back of her knuckles.

Hermione could have sworn that she had melted and was now nothing more than a puddle on the floor.

Sirius huffed, drawing Hermione's attention back to him.

He really never changed; he was obviously disgruntled at Remus for somehow ousting him with Hermione.

His grumpy manner quickly changed, however, as he spied something towards the doors of the Great Hall, and was immediately sitting up straighter with a peevish grin plastered on his face.

Hermione turned and was greeted with the sight of no less than 20 Slytherins who were covered in various amounts of what looked like a blue powder. Some were only sporting splattered robes whilst others appeared to have taken a swim in it, their hair and faces completely blue. They were being ushered into the hall by a rather disgruntled Professor Slughorn.

The hall erupted with laughter, those who hadn't seen enjoying it for the first time and those that already knew set off again. Hermione eagerly joined it.

"At least we know it really doesn't wash off," said a voice close to Hermione.

She turned to see a small slightly-chubby boy sliding into the spare seat next to James.

His hands were covered in the same blue powder substance that the Slytherins were.

"Oh Peter!" James sighed annoyingly.

"Talk about caught red handed eh?" he replied sheepishly.

"More like blue handed," smiled Remus with a wolfish grin.

"Very funny Moony" Peter replied sarcastically, "but if McGonagall catches me like this, I'll be right in detention with them two," he added with a jerk of his head towards James and Sirius.

"Come to my room after dinner Peter, I'm sure I'll find something that will help," Lily added with some reluctance to assist with their rule breaking.

"What?!?" James shouted. "_Peter_ gets invited up to your room, but _I _your very own _boyfriend_ am yet to get such an invitation?" he asked with dramatic flare.

"James," she sighed, "when will you get it through your thick skull that I will _not_ go out without you?"

He opened his mouth to respond but she simply held up a hand and glared at him.

It was enough. He bowed his head defeated and said nothing more.

Hermione felt sorry for him, but she needn't have worried as only three minutes later he was whispering back and forth with his fellow marauders organising their next prank or whatnot.


	8. Chapter 8: Living With Ghosts

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Hermione had felt like she had surely lived through the longest day of her life. It seemed an age ago that she had woken in her bed at Grimmauld Place and had been worried about having slept in. Hence it was how she found her self eternally grateful for the lush red comforter of the Gryffindor dorms as she snuggled into her bed, retiring early that night.

Although Madame Pomfrey had supplied her with a copious amount of potions in her short stay in the hospital wing her stomach pains had returned quite persistently throughout dinner and she had felt herself unable to stomach anything more than a glass of pumpkin juice. Unfortunately her lack of occupation throughout the feast had seemed to have been viewed as an open invitation to her housemates to give her a full out questioning of her life pre-Hogwarts. She really couldn't blame them for their interest in 'the new girl', but it was extremely irritating to her own cover to be repeatedly questioned on a fabricated existence.

In hindsight she thought it quite lucky that she had found herself sitting with marauders as their questions where mostly superficial and trivial and hence could be answered with a lot more truth. _After all what harm would be in James Potter knowing her favourite wizarding candy?_

For the other more complicated questions Dumbledore and herself had already come up with a somewhat reliable background story. After the feast, and during his normal welcoming speech, he had introduced her to the school assembly as niece of his. She had already relayed this information to her questioning Gryffindors and had proceeded to tell them that she had previously been home-schooled but her Uncle (i.e. Dumbledore) had convinced her parents that he thought it best for her to complete her NEWT education at Hogwarts.

The details had mostly been left with Hermione, with the exception of Dumbledore's input that her parents' names were Odette and Philippe and she grew up in Oxford. Hermione assumed that these must be the real names of his relatives; however as for details, she was determined to give as little as possible without appearing rude or suspicious. The last thing she wanted was to draw unnecessary attention to herself.

She had gotten through her first night and was quite pleased at that, however it was greatly overshadowed by the fact that she didn't know how many more nights she was going to have to 'get through'. It was like one down and… well possibly forever to go.

Though, the worst thing about it was that she knew she wouldn't be able to be friends with the marauders… she couldn't.

It would be too hard.

It would be too hard not to let something slip, she knew them so well (whether directly or not).

But mostly, it would be too hard on herself.

It had been so wonderful to see Sirius again.

Too wonderful.

She knew she wouldn't be able to last if she was to make friends with him again, get to know him again…only to lose him…again.

She had become close with Harry's godfather the last few years before his death; especially during her stay at Grimmauld Place, when Molly Weasley had tried to recruit them all as housemaids. One day when they had been scheduled to clean a particularly nasty room, they coincidently chose the same hiding spot. And well as Sirius had said 'after you share a few hours in a cloak closet with someone you're never the same'.

That made her laugh.

They hadn't meant to be in there so long but Hermione in her haste had jumped into the closet without her wand and landing on something soft, hadn't thought much about the lock clicking into place.

The soft thing had turned out to be a disgruntled Sirius Black, who likewise was wandless.

The result being they had been stuck in the closet for a little over three hours, until someone was kind enough to rescue them.

They dared not to call out and risk being scolded and then employed once again by Molly.

It was three hours later that Remus had opened the cupboard to put away his cloak and the two had fallen out on top of him.

Needless to say he wasn't pleased.

Which was surprising to Hermione, despite the being toppled upon factor, he usually found his best friends antics endearing and reminiscent of their 'olden days'.

Hermione had felt his disappointment and anger towards her too, until Sirius pulled him away to presumably calm him down.

But the warm memory of Sirius was quickly turning to ice.

She wouldn't hide in closets with Sirius again. She couldn't.

Because he was dead.

James and Lily too.

She was living in a castle full of ghosts.

Dumbledore had always told Harry not to dwell on death, that it would consume you if you let it.

But how could she not. She was living with death. All the people here were dead… most of them anyway.

Her heart clenched and she felt the sting of her eyes that told her they were filling with water.

She buried her face downward into her pillow her mass of curls and the soft pillow covering her senses and blocking out the world of death around her.

_Sirius isn't alive._

_James isn't alive! Lily is dead! They are all dead! Dumbledore isn't here! He can't help you! No-one can because they are all dead. No-one will see them smile again. No-one will know how handsome Remus once was. How much they all laughed…_

The words reverberated around her head like they were trapped in a small cave being bounced around off the walls by a strong wind only to bounce right back, over and over again.

"Hermione, are you ok?" a worried voice broke through her thoughts.

The wind stopped and so did the words.

As discreetly as she could she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and turned to face the girl who was standing by her bed.

It was Emily. A sixth year girl who she was sharing the dorm with, along with Lily.

"Yeah, thanks Emily. Just really tired, that's all"

The girl smiled and nodded understandingly. "Well if you change your mind, Sirius has smuggled in some Firewhisky and last thing I heard they were trying to talk Lily into a game of strip-chess." Emily rolled her eyes. "So anyway, if you change your mind…"

"Thanks. Maybe next time though?"

"Sure!" she said bounding towards the door, a grin on her face. It wouldn't take a genius to know she was excited about the prospect of a naked Black.

"Sweet Dreams My."

Hermione smiled as she got onto her knees to draw the curtains around her bed closed.

She couldn't be friends with the marauders because of the risk of letting something slip, but that didn't mean she couldn't make new friends; _right?_


	9. Chapter 9: My, My, My

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

My.

The word had spread like wildfire.

Who was 'Hermione' anyway?

Hermione had barely registered Emily calling her by the new nickname last night but either Emily was some sort of mutant Pavarti-and-Lavender-gossip-monster or else she had heard it from said monster, which she could only suspect was currently roaming the Hogwarts halls.

Either way the 'new girl' was now officially known by the Hogwarts population as 'My'.

From her failed attempts at breakfast the next morning to correct two fifth year boys on this mistaken name, who adamantly refused to believe that her name was in fact 'Hermione' and not 'My' because they heard so from Patricia who heard from Louis who heard from someone else that couldn't possibly be wrong because of some abstract reason they continued to argue upon Hermione guessed that her attempts in this matter of correction might be futile.

Hermione had slept in that morning and after waving Lily and Emily on she had arrived fairly late to the Great Hall and had slipped into one of the few remaining seats, hence placing her near the arguing fifth years.

Hermione had been so tired the night before that she had simply collapsed into her bed with the transfigured robe she wore still on. When she awoke however she was pleasantly surprised to find a wooden chest at the foot of her bed that had not been there before. Inside folded up neatly were a stack of school robes and casual clothes with a wand resting softly upon a pile of underthings. Hermione had picked up the wand gratefully and blushed at the thought of Albus Dumbledore picking out her bra; at the same time, absentmindedly, wondering how he had guessed her size right and then remembering that that was one of the sole things she would have been wearing when she had been found. The wand was not perfect, as is always when the wand is not picked out personally, but a letter from the Headmaster that Hermione found with the new garments explained that if she had any trouble with any of the items (wand included) that Professor McGonagall would only be to happy for an excuse to go shopping on any given weekend.

Hermione had dressed in some fresh robes before rushing down to the Great Hall for the remainder of breakfast. As soon as she looked at the piles of bacon and toast however her stomach had promptly reminded her that it was in no mood for food and she had spent the remaining ten minutes pushing a few eggs around on her plate.

It was not long before Professor McGonagall came down from the Head table and started handing out the student timetables to the Gryffindors.

Sixth year timetables took longer to hand out because first their subjects had to be cleared with their OWL scores for those subjects. Hermione's wouldn't since she had been 'home schooled' and had hence been passed judgement for her subjects, assumedly to the teachers, by Dumbledore. She did however still have to wait a little longer as Professor McGonagall started alphabetically administering the lists.

She saw Sirius as the first to get his timetable from the Professor who was obviously still angered by last nights 'prank'.

He simply winked at the fuming Head of House before catching Hermione's eye and galloping over to where she was still sitting at the table.

"Hi My!" He called loudly as he swung one strong arm around her shoulders.

"Hi," she replied not looking at him but glowering at the arm draped upon her shoulder.

He squeezed her shoulder gently and asked more softly "What's wrong My?"

"Argh…" she squirmed causing his arm to drop. "Nothing _Siri,_ why do you ask?" she replied with heavy sarcasm.

He laughed.

"Hey, guess you're not a morning person, eh?"

He leaned over her shoulder to read the list of subjects she had in her hand.

"Arithmancy, yuk… and Ancient Runes?" he turned up his nose and as he stood back muttered something that she could have sworn sounded like "definitely Remus' type of girl".

"Oh well, we can still be friends!" he said with a cheeky grin once again gracing his face that seemed to stretch to touch both his ears.

He was too adorable. _But wait – what did he just say again? _

_That's right. _"We'll thankyou for that assessment _Siri_, I'm sure –"

But before she could finish scolding Sirius' presumptuous comment Remus had appeared at his side and her breath had caught in her thought.

_I've got to stop doing that_.

"Why does My keep calling me 'Siri' Moony?" Sirius asked his friend, a wrinkled brow showing his confusion. "Doesn't she know my name's Sirius?"

"Maybe because her name is Hermione, mate." Remus replied grinning brightly at Hermione who continued to unknowingly stare at Remus.

Sirius muffled a laugh which left no doubt in Hermione's mind that he knew her name perfectly well already.

"Miss Granger?"

Professor McGonagall thankfully interrupted and Hermione was given her timetable. She saw that she had Ancient Runes first off and before she could think even about textbooks Professor McGonagall had whipped out a small shrunken package and placed it on the table in front of Hermione.

"Your textbooks, dear," the older woman said smiling gently before heading over to Remus who was next in line being "L".

Emily didn't take Ancient Runes and so, instead, Hermione found herself being shown to her first class by Lily. It turned out that Hermione and Lily's timetable was in fact exactly the same and although the red-head seemed excited about this, Hermione instead found it detrimental to her early resolution of staying away from this particular group of people. However with further consideration, Hermione concluded that a relationship with Lily might be the least detrimental to her resolve. Sure Hermione knew how this young girl would die in a few years but in all fairness so might Hermione – she didn't know – and at least with Lily she didn't know a Future-Lily directly. She supposed the same argument could be made for James but Hermione dismissed this as he _really_ did look too much like Harry for her to stay uninvolved.

That day, Hermione kept her head down in most classes, only answering questions when called upon. The content seemed similar to Hermione's own sixth year but already with some major differences. Hermione felt grateful for the Headmaster making her repeat as she was sure entering into 7th year unprepared would have tormented her to no end. She sat with Lily in each of her classes except in Arithmancy where Lily sat with her Ravenclaw friend leaving Hermione to sit with Remus, needless to say Hermione didn't complain. Other than that Lily, Emily and Hermione would sit together, usually in front of the Marauder boys, who would spend the lesson throwing scrunched up notes to the girls when the professor's weren't looking.

The most interesting part of Hermione's day came with her very last lesson, which just happened to be her only lesson that day shared by the Slytherins. Potions.

It was also the only lesson with seating arrangements and as Sirius had pointed out to her as they walked down to the dungeons; he was the only one without a partner. Hermione could sense Lily stiffen as Sirius said this and about five meters away from the classroom where the Slytherins were standing Lily swiftly pulled Hermione down a side corridor, a pleading look on her face.

"Lily, what is it? Are you ok?" Hermione startled at the girls behaviour.

"Umm… My I know that Sirius just said he was the only one without a partner, but can I _please, PLEASE, _ask a big favour of you?"

"Yes, of course. What is –?"

"I need to sit with Sirius. I mean not _him_ –" she blushed, "it's just my partner, we… we had… well I just can't talk to him, ok? Slughorn won't mind if we swapped, I'm his favourite student, but… I mean, would you please…?"

Hermione agreed before the girl could have a breakdown and Lily threw her arms around her in a tight hug.

"Thankyou! Thankyou!" she gushed as she pulled Hermione back into the right corridor.

"Oh," Lily added in an afterthought "just so you know, he's name is –"

But before she could answer they were stopped by the sight of Sirius and James, wands drawn and pointed at a pale looking boy with lank black hair.

"My, my, my, what do we have here boys" Sirius gloated.

"Snivellus."


	10. Chapter 10: Let Me Be Your Troll

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Severus Snape.

Traitor.

Death Eater.

Her Potions Professor.

Wait. Her Potions Professor, yes he was that. Death Eater – he had the mark – but… Hermione back tracked… _traitor? _

Well Harry had said so.

But Harry was rash. Hermione knew this. Everyone just about knew this.

And Snape _had_ run.

However, for some reason, unclear to even her, she doubted it.

She would never say so to Harry or Ron. _No, definitely not_. Hadn't they been offended before at her for lesser defence of the same teacher? _Yes_ – she highly doubted defending the murderer of Dumbledore would have gotten her anywhere with those two.

None of this mattered however because right now, the boy standing here, separated from her only by the large muscled form of Sirius Black, was not her Potions Professor, was not a Death Eater and was not a traitor… at least not _yet_ anyway.

But there was something he definitely _was_.

An enemy.

Of the Marauders.

And as the saying goes – your enemy's enemy is your friend.

_Perhaps that's a bit harsh_, she thought.

She did not want to be _enemies_ with the Marauders as such. But she definitely did want to keep her distance. So far this had seen her fail miserably.

She needed to try something different, she had been trying to stay away from them but there had been nothing to stop them from being near her. She needed something to help them stay away, a_nd what's better_, she thought, _than a ten-foot Severus- pole?_

The boys were throwing verbal insults at each other but Hermione wasn't listening. She was trying to remember any scrap of information that anyone had possibly told her about the younger version of her Professor.

_Sirius hated him. _Well it didn't take a genius to see that.

_James hated him. _Again – apparent.

_Remus never said anything to stop them._ Her head whipped around to find the young wolf, sure enough standing with his back to the wall, behind Sirius and James looking at his shoes, the classroom door, anywhere it seemed but at the scene in front of him. Hermione frowned, but turned her attention back to Severus.

She noticed all the Gryffindors had started to inch closer to James and Sirius whereas the Slytherins were more or less slinking away from where Severus stood facing the two bigger wizards alone.

_Friendless._

But why?

Hermione felt a strong sting of pity catch her breath. She was no stranger to feeling alone and friendless. She remembered only too well the sting of Ron's words to her during her first year. But she had eventually made friends. Why hadn't he? Why didn't he get his Troll?

She could feel the magic building around Sirius as there fight escalated. It wouldn't be too long before they started throwing hexes and Hermione found that she truly didn't want that.

She was just about to reach out to Sirius and do what Remus was to her to cowardly to do. What the Slytherins should have done. But then she remembered…

_The memory._

And then… _Lily's fight._

Harry had told them of the memory he had seen in Snape's pensieve. She remembered he had been angry that his Mother had tried to stand up for Snape, and he… he had called her a Mudblood. And that Lily had been shocked, like he hadn't done that before. Harry had said it had been the end of exams so it must have been just the end of last term for them.

And they had been lab partners before that?

Perhaps… it wasn't her blood then? Perhaps it was something else? Perhaps it was… the pity?

Hermione didn't have to worry about such name calling as she supposed that having Dumbledore as a "Grandfather" would suggest her having a magical background. But still if she wanted to befriend the boy-Professor she figured that she might as well take advice from the pensieve memory and not echo Lily's actions.

Angry red sparks were now coming from James wand, so thinking quickly Hermione spotted the cupboard hanging on the wall above James head and as discreetly as she could aimed her wand at the hinges and cast a non-verbal charm at the door.

There was a small explosion as the cupboard doors swang open and the jars it contained burst spilling its runny green substance directly onto James and Sirius.

Apparently alerted by the noise Professor Slughorn ran out from the classroom to examine the scene in front of him which now consisted of the two Gryffindor boys head and shoulders covered in slime, the colour and consistency of snot. Surprisingly Severus had already placed his wand away and discreetly slipped from the scene as the Slughorn scroufougied the boys heads clean muttering about how they were lucky it was only a concoction of Peeves' and not a dangerous substance.

They all started to file into the classroom, Hermione following the disgruntled Gryffindor boys only to be pulled aside by a strong hand on her upper arm as she entered the dark room.

"I saw that you know," he breathed hot air onto her neck.

Hermione pulled her arm back and lifted her chin, refusing to look at him and instead brushed past him walking to the only available seats, at the front of the classroom.

"I'm afraid I don't have any idea what you're talking about," she replied softly but confidently.

She could almost feel him smirk at her back.

He followed her to their desk and they remained silent as Slughorn began to lecture them about the potion they would be making today.

Hermione was determined to do her best today, thinking that surely if she showed him her intelligence their friendship could follow on from that at least. She knew he would appreciate brilliance in potions… well at least she hoped that followed through from her time.

She started to cut up and prepare the ingredients to precision handing them over to him when she finished. Fifteen minutes later she looked up to him pleased with herself only to find him redoing the entire ingredients her own preparations being placed in a muddled pile on the desks corner.

She stood there mouth agape, unbelieving at what he had done. What was wrong with them anyway?

Without looking up he said smoothly "I suggest you close that mouth, I do not know about you but I would not trust some of these fools so much that I would doubt their abilities to turn a simple dreamless sleeping potion into toxic fumes."

She had changed her mind.

Sirius and James were right.

Severus Snape was a jerk.

"And dare I ask just what you, pray tell, think of _my_ abilities," she hissed venomously. "Those ingredients were prepared perfectly, I have never once –"

"They were prepared to the text book standards, were they not?" he said calmly clearly unfazed by the steaming witch.

"Well it was written by –"

"– a squib, who had never brewed a potion in his life. Or didn't you know that?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes, surprisingly she didn't doubt him. But she was surprised that she had never heard that before. After all it was the same book that she had used last year.

"Now just sit back and maybe you will learn something."

And so astonished she did.


	11. Chapter 11: Let’s Be Sirius About This

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

"I don't know why I even bother? You obviously won't listen to reason!"

Sirius' voice called out across the Gryffindor common room, startling its occupants and drawing attention to the girl climbing the stair's that would take her to the girl's dormitories.

He had followed her back to the tower calling out to her the whole way along after finding her for the third time that week squeezed into a corner of the library with the greasy Slytherin.

"Well don't ask me," she shouted back with equal temper, her foot on the first step of the stairwell. "I didn't ask you to filter my friends for me and I don't appreciate it either."

"FRIENDS?!" he practically screamed, incredulous. "You're FRIENDS with him now?"

She turned around just in time to see James, Remus and Peter scramble through the round portal.

Sirius, oblivious and uncaring of the new additions to the common room, shook his head at Hermione. "He's a Slytherin My!" he said as if she had forgotten it and now everything would be resolved.

When she responded with only one angry raised eyebrow he continued "You can't be _friends_ with one of them. You – You just _can't_. Heck – it's probably not even possible."

"Oh thankyou Sirius!" she exclaimed with sickly sweet sarcasm. "I mean – I had no idea. But know that you've told me I'll be sure to stay away from the big bad Slytherins. You don't think you can walk me to my classes tomorrow just in case one of them might you know – look at me?"

Sirius scowled darkly.

Hermione returned it equally.

Sirius opened his mouth to start again, determined to open her eyes to her obvious misdemeanour.

However before he could even point out that tomorrow was the weekend and they didn't even have classes he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

It was Peter.

Sirius looked at him puzzled, not that he had stopped him, even though that in itself didn't happen often (if ever), but by the look of pure sadness etched in his normally happy boyish face.

Peter nodded towards Hermione as if in explanation and Sirius looked back at the fuming witch only to this time really _see_ her.

She was angry yes; he had _seen_ that the first time – but he noticed now that although her stance and face was only one of pure rage her eyes were filled with tears.

It looked so misfitting he was surprised that it had taken another to point it out to him.

Her eyes were so sad.

Aware of the fast-becoming awkward moment and scared of Sirius' slowly wilting face, Hermione turned and scrambled up the stars as fast as her legs would take her with her eyes shut tight and finally allowing her mutinous tears to escape.

She fell onto her bed and curled into a ball hugging her pillow to her stomach and letting the tears wet her pillow case.

This wasn't the first time she had fought with Sirius in the past two weeks since her first potions lesson – _no definitely not the first_ – but it was the first she had let her emotions get away from her. Usually she lasted until when she was safely wrapped in the bed hangings in the girl's dormitory or at least until the nearest girl's bathroom.

She couldn't do it anymore.

She didn't want to interfere with the future but the more time she spent in the library, searching her most trusted tomes that had never seemed to fail her before, the more she realised the dire situation she was in and the unlikelihood of _ever_ returning.

She didn't want to give up hope, and she still hadn't heard from Dumbledore after all, but at the same time she couldn't keep going the way she was.

Severus had turned out to be quite the unlikely friend and she was glad either way that she had given the time to get to know him but her resulting aggressive fights with Sirius were killing her more than she had anticipated.

Hermione didn't remember falling asleep that night but awoke in the morning, although fully dressed in yesterday's clothes, her shoes had been removed and the blankets tucked tight around her.

She smiled at her still sleeping room mates, warm with gratitude and sorry for the worry she must have caused them.

She knew that they heard her cry at night, more nights than not, and had told them that she was simply homesick but didn't want to talk about it. They believed her of course and offered a shoulder should she ever need it, giving her the space she requested but not letting her forget they were there for her with actions such as that night, making sure she was warm and comfortable in her restless sleep.

Still slightly dazed in her sleepy thoughts, it took her a few moments to recognise that the light tapping to the side of her head was not her imagination but a flying folded parchment that reminded her of the flying memo's she had once seen in the Ministry of Magic.

She raised her hand to catch it as it aimed its next attack on her rumpled curls.

The note was brief, a request from Dumbledore to come to his office when she was dressed, nothing urgent but hoping she would get there before breakfast because he was particularly looking forward to the blueberry pancakes the elves were making that morning in the Great Hall.

Hermione smiled at Dumbledore's child-like fascination and hopped out of bed to get dressed.

Twenty minutes later she was sitting in his office, hot chocolate in hand and absentmindedly feeding Fawkes a marshmallow as he started to explain his progress on "the situation".

Unfortunately his conclusions had been no better than her own. He explained that he still hadn't received word from some of his contacts and was optimistic that they might still provide light for them but reiterated his concerns that should they inevitably come up blank they still might find themselves with no other option but for Hermione to remain and live as she is… in their time… in her past.

If she hadn't have come to a similar conclusion herself she might have been shocked but she was starting to see, no matter how reluctantly, that this might indeed be her future.

In the child-like part of her mind she thought it ironic to be contemplating finding her future in the past.

Dumbledore didn't however end their meeting there.

"Hermione," he started cautiously, his blue eyes twinkling behind his precariously placed glasses. "I have noticed you have been… well not exactly getting along with the young Mr Black."

As he predicted she immediately tightened up, her body unconsciously poised defensively.

"Might I assume he is somewhat of an acquaintance from your own future?" he asked delicately with his choice of words.

She remained silent for a moment, contemplating if she should answer him at all.

"Yes." She relented.

"I will not be so presumptuous as to tell you what is best Hermione," Dumbledore said, relaxing once again into his chair. "But might I suggest that you think about your actions in regards to your own future whatever that so happens to be."

Hermione looked confused but he cut her off before she had the chance to speak.

"Your future Hermione. One that might inevitably become among the here and now. In all reality your mere presence here might constitute a vast change in the future you wish to return to.

"Although I know all your actions so far have been in your endeavour to resist any change in that future should you so return, I beg you please not to arrest your own life but instead perhaps work towards building a life you would wish to continue here if that became your only option… or choice."

Hermione nodded slowly absorbing the weight of his words… make her own life… here… one that she would want… _what do I want?_

When Hermione reached the Gryffindor table it was almost completely full, all forth years and above eager to eat their breakfast quickly in the hope that it would encourage Filch to let them out early. It was a Hogsmeade weekend.

There weren't any clear spots left around the seated Marauder's but a sweet eye-banter to a timid looking third year seated next to Remus made the young boys at the end shuffle up.

She immediately slid into the small opening and leaned over to Sirius who was sitting across from her newly acquired seat.

She waited until he looked up at her, acknowledging her waiting presence, his dark locks falling into his eyes in that charming way that only he can manage.

She took in a deep breath.

"Sirius... I'm sorry."


	12. Chapter 12: A Chocolate Remus

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

"Pinch me I'm in Heaven."

Lily holding onto Sirius' other arm giggled.

"Ouch."

"So ungrateful," Hermione smirked.

Her triumph was dashed however when Sirius pulled a large piece of blueberry pancake from her hair, plopping it into his mouth.

Disgusted equally by Sirius' action and the thought of residue from this morning's food fight still residing in her hair, she pulled away from their friendly embrace shaking her head upside down and running her fingers through her hair.

Alerted by the hair-induced-drama of their friend and equally or more so distressed as Hermione, Lily and Emily ran to the side of their friend to assist in the search of pancake fragments.

James, who had been the main food fight bandit that morning, sniggered loudly and pulled the other boys ahead of the other girls, leaving them to sort out their girly hair problems.

They were halfway to Hogsmeade and it was cold, the snow already giving a fair coat to the ground, an early winter pending.

Lily looking up at the scampering Marauders, scoffed at James' gloating grin.

"Fine, but don't expect me to charm the back of your hair clean when you discover that big pumpkin juice splatter at the back of your head," she called out.

Horrified James brought his hand up to run through his clean hair.

Remus' laughs drowned out the girls giggles.

Holding his sides and eyes closed Remus didn't expect the sludgy snowball being thrown at him from an annoyed James.

Hair-crisis cleared and avoided the girls ran past the now quickly dampening boys and rushed to beat them to the magical wizarding town and the warmth of a Butterbeer.

When the boys finally reached The Three Broomsticks the girls had already been through two rounds of Butterbeers and were completely absorbed in vain discussions of hair and the latest Muggle fashion trends while flipping through some of Lily's Muggle 'Cosmopolitan' magazines. Emily, who was a pureblood, thought it quite disbelieving that Muggles actually wore tights, as well as things she discovered to be called 'leg warmers', in public.

Hermione was just attempting to discourage Lily and Emily who currently had their hands deep within her hair examining and discussing over the top of her head what charms they could use to 'fix' her when Remus slid into the bench next to Emily.

"Oh my gosh!" she squealed. "You're all wet!"

Remus chuckled in a very Sirius-like-way as Emily clambered over Hermione to get away from the wet Marauder.

Lily, pushing Emily's flailing arms out of the way as the girl settled in between them, calmly waved her wand in the direction of the dripping boys drying their squelching clothes.

"Thanks Hun," James winked at her as he pulled up a seat at their corner booth.

The girls only stayed at the pub to finish their drinks before they left the boys and headed out to look around the small town. The boys wanted to go and see the "haunted" Shrieking Shack but Emily simply refused to walk that far and be disappointed 'again' when she was sure that there was nothing interesting to see there. Hermione found it difficult to hide her smirk as she heard Sirius whisper to James "well not for a couple of days anyway". Her urge to smirk disappeared however when she saw the pale and sickly looking Remus sitting quietly as they talked around him. She remembered that the Wolfsbane potion had yet to be discovered in this time and she felt immensely guilty for having knowledge of such a helpful substance and not being able to share it to ease his pain.

She didn't have much time to dwell on those thoughts however as Lily and Emily proceeded to drag her around Hogsmeade from one end to another and back again too many times for her to count; meanwhile incredulous at Emily who had been so adamant against the walk to the Shrieking Shack but had seen no problem in clocking up miles flittering from shop to shop, returning multiple times when she "just couldn't decide".

Dumbledore had given Hermione an "allowance" for her to spend on herself for personal items and special occasions such as Hogsmeade weekends and had told her to enjoy herself with it but Hermione still remained wary about spending the money and didn't want to take advantage of his generosity.

Hence she had only allowed herself to buy one new top which Emily and Lily had insisted she looked fantastic in and had informed her in no uncertain terms that, if she didn't buy it for herself, they would buy it for her. Hermione herself thought it a bit low cut and too nice to wear for anything she would do at Hogwarts, but she didn't dare argue with her determined friends.

Two hours, and what seemed like three hundred shops (even though Hogsmeade was only home to around 20), later the small group of girls, all finally showing their exhaustion, walked back into the Three Broomsticks, a Butterbeer on their mind before the lengthy walk back up to Hogwarts.

Emily immediately perked up as she saw their male Gryffindor counterparts already seated at the back and with room to spare at their table and she eagerly pulled her two exhausted friends along to the back of the pub.

Hermione blindly let her tired body limply fall into a spare chair and her head fall onto her folded arms resting on the small table.

"Tired?" she heard Sirius ask amusedly.

A muffled groan was his only response.

Fifteen minutes or so later Hermione was sitting up but only half listening to the conversation, more absorbed in her own longing for the warm bed that she knew awaited her in the Gryffindor dormitories.

She was snapped back to attention as Remus stood excusing himself from the group saying that he felt sick and was going to head back to the castle.

"Wait!" Hermione shouted, although he was barely a step away from his chair. "I mean, I'll come back with you," she blushed as the few occupied tables around them turned to look at her.

He waited patiently as she grabbed her few things and then opened the door for her as they stepped back into the chilly afternoon air.

Hermione walking beside him through the main street chanced a glance at his sickly face when she thought he wasn't looking.

He really did look _very_ pale and she tried desperately to think of _something_ that she could do to help him. Even if she could remember the ingredients and instructions to make the Wolfsbane potion she doubted her own competence at preparing it. It really was a job for a Potions Master.

_Even so_, she thought,_ it would only mildly reduce his sickness pre-transformation_.

He was looking at something on the other side of the street, so she quickly dared another glance at his face, hoping to spark an idea.

However this time, just as she turned to look, his head snapped to meet her glance, a mischievous smile upon his face, as if he had known her sneaky glances and had purposely set to trap her.

She blushed, looking down at her feet and then back in front of her, turning her head back and forth across the street as if she was looking at the shops (_as if she hadn't seen enough already today_).

Remus had opened his mouth to speak, a word half formed on his tongue as her hand shot up to tightly grip his upper arm.

"Wait!" she called, her eyes glued to the shop in front of them. "Just wait _one_ second. You won't regret it. Promise," she smiled and fled into the shop.

Remus waited barely two minutes before she re-emerged, a small package in hanging from her hand.

She walked back to his side and signalled for him to continue.

It wasn't until the edge of town before Remus finally gave into her silence.

"Well?" he asked, a smile gracing his face. "Are you going to tell me what that was about then?"

Hermione turned to him smiling, not slowing her step, she replied "Well I thought you hadn't cared, but I guess since you asked…"

She pulled a small bar from the package still hanging from her arm and handed to him.

Remus' brow wrinkled in confusion.

"I noticed you're not really feeling your best," she started cautiously.

Remus tensed slightly, focusing on the object in his hand.

"…and well… just try it for me – it helps." She smiled genuinely at him and he relented to open the package revealing its dark chocolate contents.

Cautiously he took a bite.

And then another.

He didn't ask her anymore. He tended to discourage people asking him about his "illness".

He doubted she was suspicious… yet. This would only be his first transformation this term anyway – _how could she be suspicious?_

Hermione took the lead of the conversation on the way back to the castle, talking about school work which although, as a topic, Sirius and James would have classed as mundane he enjoyed having someone to talk to about.

Their trip was immensely too short and they soon found themselves back at the Gryffindor common room.

"So did it help any?" she asked as they ended their conversation to head in the opposite direction to their dorm rooms.

She was hopeful it had, but couldn't tell if his pinked cheeks were only from the cold, whipping wind on the way back.

"Help what?" he asked confused.

"Oh!" he exclaimed after a minute, comprehension dawning at the rumpled chocolate wrapper still in his hand. "Well it must of," he laughed gently; "I'd even forgot I was feeling sick."

She smiled, pleased.

"Thanks." He added shyly.

"Well that's good then. I wouldn't know what to do with all this otherwise," she said pushing the large Honeydukes package towards him.

"What?" he exclaimed. "You didn't buy all this for me? Did you?"

She nodded, pushing the parcel at him as he refused to grasp it.

He held it this time, somewhat reluctantly. "You don't want _any _of it? At least take _some_. _Please_" he implored.

"No," she replied shaking her head. "I don't like dark anyway."

"Goodnight Remus," she said reaching up on the tips of her toes to give him a peck on the cheek.

"I'm glad you're feeling better."

And with that she had gone.

Flittered up the girl's dormitories, leaving Remus bewildered, one hand reaching up to touch the place on his cheek where her soft lips had been only minutes before and at the same time wondering – _how did she know I like dark chocolate?_


	13. Chapter 13: Scared Of The Dark?

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning:** Attempted Non-Con (nothing too extreme though)

* * *

"No. That's not right either – here just give it to me," Hermione sighed exasperatedly, leaning over to grab Severus' parchment.

Although Hermione had reconciled with Sirius and the Marauders she still spent most of her evenings with Severus in the library.

She reasoned that if she stayed in the common room with the others she would be doing just the same as she was in the library with only more essays to correct and less books to pursue.

Hermione was breezing through her sixth year work, completing her assignments with an ease that allowed her to undertake her extra research on time-travel.

Already through the available texts of the restricted section, meaning those books which would actually allow her to read them and did not try to bite her or burn her "dirty Mudblood hands" as they had decreed when she had tried to pry open the cover of a few of the darker books that were shelved there, Hermione was now on to the mundane perusal of the hundreds of magical history volumes in the hope of a glimmer of anything that may make mention of her rare predicament.

Severus although adept at potions, to Hermione's dismay, was much less proficient at Charms and Transfiguration which meant that about half of her time was spent fixing his work.

Severus would use this time, as Hermione spelled out his mistakes with her wand, to pick up whatever book Hermione had been reading in an attempt to discern what she was up to. Unfortunately for Severus every time he picked up her abandoned book he would only uncover a different section of magical history that had no recognisable connection to what she was reading the night before, or the night before that. It simply appeared that she was interested in History. Severus had screwed up his nose at the thought, scrapping the possibility that _anyone_ could be interested in History after having Professor Binns as a teacher.

So as Hermione would hand back his parchment he would hand back her book and they would continue their respective work in silence, Severus with a look of disgruntled disgust on his face and Hermione hiding her amused smirk, knowing that he had once again failed to uncover the mystery behind 'her predisposition to magical history'.

It had been two weeks since the first full moon of the term when Severus and Hermione were once again ushered out of the Library by the snappy Librarian at five minutes past curfew.

Although they could have been given detention if they were caught by Filch, they did not hurry as Severus walked Hermione leisurely back to Gryffindor tower, as what had quickly become their nightly ritual. At first Hermione had insisted against the escort but he had simply refused to argue with her about it. A little affronted at being thought of needing a protector, Hermione had refused to talk to him on the way back to her rooms on the first night he had done so. Severus, however, had smirked the whole way back at her crossed arms and pursed mouth declaring as he left her at the portrait hole that he 'had finally discovered a way to shut her up without the enticement of a book'.

As disgruntled as an owl made to fly through a snow storm, she had not given him the satisfaction of a quiet night's walk since.

On this particular night, Hermione amused herself by reciting an old Shakespearean play that she remembered finding on the gloomy shelves of Grimmauld Place one boring night waiting for Harry's arrival.

Severus was only to glad to drop her off at the Gryffindor entrance with a hasty 'Goodnight'.

"Goodnight, oh fair Severus" she called to his retreating back melodically.

However as she turned to enter the round portal she felt a distinctive brush of material trail across her shoulder.

Without looking back she casually reached out an arm, her hand closing around the hidden form and pulled it back through the entry with her.

Once inside the common room, she turned around to face the not-so-sneaky Gryffindor pulling the invisibility cloak from a shocked James.

She let the material pool at his feet, a scowl firmly planted on her face.

"I – I was just going to the kitchens, honest!" He let the words stumble out of his mouth.

She raised one condescending eyebrow and turned on her heel towards the girl dormitories.

She could now see that Peter, Sirius and Remus were the only ones left in the common room, all equally holding in their laughter at James' face.

"I told you, you wouldn't get away with it James," Sirius gloated, obviously not referring to the kitchens.

"Man, she can be scarier than McGonagall sometimes," Peter stammered in a mixture of giggles and fear.

James seemed to have shaken himself out of his stupor and confidence returned reached his hand into his robe pocket.

"Yeah well I've still got – HEY!" he yelled as the piece of parchment flew out of his hand from a silent _accio_ from the retreating female.

"We haven't even learnt non-verbals yet," he sulked as he sank onto one of the plush red armchairs.

The next morning Hermione took the confiscated map down to breakfast with every intention of handing it back to James, she reasoned that she couldn't use it anyway since being able to make the map work for her would only raise suspicion.

However before she reached the Great Hall she had already changed her decision.

A hall way away from her destination was James and Peter facing an already unarmed and alone Severus.

Before Hermione could even make her presence known James had thrown a curse at the defenceless Slytherin.

Severus' chest spilled open, blood quickly soaking his robes and pooling at his feet. Already backed against the wall, he slowly slumped to the ground, his hands weakly trying to stop the blood that flowed steadily through his shirt.

Their closeness to the Great Hall allowed Hermione's small squeal to be enough to alert the Professors and before Severus had finished his slump to the cold ground no less than seven Professor's were crowding the small scene. Madame Pomfrey, who must have been also dining in the Great Hall that morning, quickly made her way to the front dropping to the ground and murmuring a spell, her wand tip tracing the line of incision on Severus' chest.

Seeing the blood flow stop and the teachers bundling Severus up to take him to the Hospital Wing Hermione finally turned her attention back to the two boys that still stood wands out, but now pointed to the ground.

She was glad at least to see their shocked expressions and guilty pale faces, but it did not stop the bubble of rage that threatened to tear its way through her chest.

James' face snapped to her direction, looking past her. It was then she realised that she had been joined by Sirius and Remus, who were flanking her sides.

James face was drained of all colour as he whispered "I didn't – we didn't know. He – He threw it at us first and it missed… didn't know."

He didn't seem to have the ability to say anything else just murmuring those last two words over and over again.

McGonagall either overhearing James' words or just sensitive to his pale colour put a gentle hand on each boy and ushered James and Peter gently back up the stairs towards, undoubtedly headed towards the headmasters office.

Hermione felt a hand brush her cheek wiping the wetness away from her face.

She turned to face Remus, his hand still gently pushing away her tears.

She hadn't even been aware she had been crying, but now that she had been alerted to the fact it seemed as if they wouldn't stop, only increasing in their fervour.

She collapsed gently onto Remus, and without question he held her as her tears shook her small body.

Severus was sequestered in the Hospital Wing for a little less than week.

During that time Hermione continued to inhabit the Library in her evenings but the comfortable silence that she had always enjoyed within its walls and shelves seemed strangely empty and lonelier than it ever had without her newest friend. As a result she would never stay as long, leaving way before curfew.

On her fourth, and what she hoped last, night alone in what had become her regular corner, in her tiredness and worry over her missing companion she had accidentally let herself fall asleep, her head pressed against the open pages of another dull history book.

When she woke the Library was dark. It was unusual that she would not have been woken by the Librarian, ushering the few dwelling students out at curfew, but she supposed that the Librarian hadn't thought to look for her seeing as she had been leaving so early that past week.

Hermione packed up her books and slipped past the doors to the Library, heading back to the tower in a sleepy daze.

She dared not to light her wand, she didn't know what time it was but judging from the cool temperature of the hall and the lone moonlight lighting the walls she figured it was long past curfew.

Perhaps if she hadn't have been so tired, or she had thought to bring the map with her and not hidden it under her mattress in her anger at James she would have noticed the shadowed figure following her footsteps.

As it happened, she didn't notice and hence was caught completely unawares as a level away from the tower she was grabbed from behind and pushed roughly against the wall.

Her head hit the hard stone with a worrying crack and her eyes watered painfully, blurring her vision of her attacker.

Her hands were held to her sides and unable to grab for her wand, buried in her bag that now lay at her feet, she was defenceless to the body that pushed itself against her.

"Walking the halls alone?" a hot breath purred onto her cheek.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you to be careful of the dark?"

He, for the voice was too deep to be that of a woman, pulled her shoulders back and roughly slammed her back into the wall.

Her head lolled to her side in the pain as she let out a small groan.

He laughed.

"Perhaps then, I should teach you?"

Through her haze of pain she still heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper being drawn down and she immediately tensed in fear.

Before she could react further to free herself however a low growl that did not come from either of them filled the hallway.

Hermione couldn't see the new addition but the man that held her immediately dropped his grip, allowing Hermione to stumble a few steps away.

"Don't you dare touch her Rabastian," the new voice growled deep from his throat.

"Tell her to stay away from Snape then," the other replied, a hint of fear taking the edge away from his threat. "He's one of ours not one of Dumbledore's."

He seemed like he would have said more, but another growl from her saviour had Rabastian scampering away.

"Remus?" Hermione called uncertainly, her vision returning.

He was at her side in an instant, cradling her abused head in his hands. He turned her head to the side looking for damaging but found her without bloodshed and helped her to regain her balance without using the wall for support.

He turned away from her to pick up her fallen book bag and then turning back seemed to assess her for a second before reaching down to place one arm beneath her legs and scooping her up into his arms.

Surprised she wrapped her arms around his neck to steady herself in his embrace.

She was weightless to his werewolf enhanced strength and he carried her with ease back to the safety of Gryffindor tower, his tightened grip the only signal to his troubled mind.

Weary but safe within his arms she was almost asleep when the reached the dorms.

With a whispered spell he was able to climb the girl's stairs minus a slippery-dip back down and he carried her all the way to her bad, finishing by tucking her safetly in the bedding.

He was already at the door when he was called back by a soft and sleepy "Remus?"

He walked back, pulling back her curtain to see her gazing tearfully up into his blue gaze.

Unable to stand her tears he swept down to sit on the edge of her bed, Hermione sitting up simultaneously and each wrapping their arms around the other.

"Thankyou Remus, I – I –"

"Shhhh …" he softly admonished, stroking the curls at the back of her head.

Unable to express her gratitude in words, Hermione turned her head to give him a soft kiss on his cheek. At the same time, Remus shifted and their lips brushed.

Frozen and attached to each other by their lips, Hermione hesitated only a second before pressing harder against his soft touch.

Remus' hesitation vanishing at her prompt deepened the kiss, adding his own pressure and pushing her gently back into the pillows.

The kiss seemed to last an eternity and entirely not long enough at the same time.

It wasn't until he felt the delicate touch of her tongue, brushing against his lips that he suddenly pulled back.

A brief look of hurt and puzzlement flashed across her face but was eradicated as he got up, brushing the hair from her forehead and placing a gently kiss at her temple.

"Sweet Dreams My," he whispered.


	14. Chapter 14: Once More With Feeling

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Hermione and Remus had been dodging around their obvious mutual attraction for weeks prior 'the kiss'. So it wasn't exactly a big surprise after all the subtle gestures they had been sharing.

They were mostly simple things really.

A gentle brush of a hand, seemingly accidentally as one reaches for the potatoes at dinner.

Waiting on each other, to walk between classes, both forgetting that they are actually due in opposite directions.

There would always be a spot open between Remus and Sirius at the Gryffindor table, even when the Great Hall was exceptionally full and Hermione running absurdly late.

When Hermione would occasionally spend a late evening in the Gryffindor common room with Lily, Emily and the boys, she would always end up sleepily resting upon Remus' shoulder by the end of the night.

More than once she had fallen asleep on their lounge by the fire and had woken to find herself in her own bed without memory of walking up the stairs.

Their relationship was never spoken between them and, as far as she knew, never spoken openly of by the group at large but had somehow developed into a comfortable more-than-friendship.

Remus to Hermione was unlike any crush she had ever experienced. The more she thought about it the more her chest swelled.

She thought him more gorgeous, more charming and more caring and overall perfect than anyone she had ever met.

She knew that if she could look at herself abstractly she should laugh and scorn her swooning counterpart as one of the stupid love-obsessed girls like Lavender Brown that would keep her up at night with her declarations of true love for this weeks guy, but at the same time she didn't care because even just spending time with the young werewolf felt… right.

Right. There wasn't any other word to better describe it than right.

In contrast, only a few rooms away, Remus was feeling guilty.

He awoke the next morning and instead of feeling the rush of endorphins that Hermione's body exuded he felt ashamed and utterly disgusted at himself.

Fortunately for our heroine, it was not from the act of kissing Hermione per se but rather the time and circumstances that he had chosen for the act.

Unlike Hermione, Remus understood what it was, and he loathed himself for it.

From the first moment he met Hermione he was obsessed with her smell of fresh strawberries and cinnamon. It wasn't the overwhelming repugnant smell that emanated from most as a result of their mixed cosmetic soaps and lotions but a unique intoxicating scent that seemed to exude from her very skin itself.

His werewolf senses had always influenced his human form especially in with regards to scent. James and Sirius had once even had to change their aftershaves when Remus refused to keep less than 10 feet between them.

It also helped that their sickly aftershaves had mysteriously gone missing from their shared bathroom.

The girls however were often even worse.

Their shampoo combined with their scented moisturizers, soaps, hand creams, clothe freshening charms, hair spray, and their excessively applied perfumes more often than not meant Remus always went dateless to balls and Hogsmeade weekends, not being able to spend more than five minutes at a time in close proximity to one of the walking scent bombs.

Hermione had been the one and only exception.

And it scared Remus.

He liked her. He liked her a lot.

And that scared him too.

He knew that his lycanthropy would always control his life, its extent far reaching and all-encompassing but he wished he didn't have to subject the ones he cared for to his curse as well.

His werewolf self liked Hermione, it accepted her and its possessiveness was what had triggered that kiss.

He had been waiting for her to return to the Gryffindor common room last night and when it had reached half an hour pass curfew he had decided without thought to go and check on her.

He had found her closer than expected to the Gryffindor tower and not a moment too soon.

He was surprised he hadn't ripped the boy to shreds.

He knew he might have.

He had been fully ready to follow the scampering Slytherin, stopped only by her soft call.

He hadn't left her. He couldn't have.

But he shouldn't have kissed her, or let her kiss him.

She had just been attacked and he had taken advantage of her vulnerableness.

She didn't know how dangerous her rescuer was and he even doubted if in the end he would cause more damage than the other ever could.

He didn't think he ever wanted her to know.

He thought he could stand the rejection that ultimately would meet him in life; he would never be able to keep his secret hidden from everyone in his life.

But he doubted he could ever stand rejection from her.

He shouldn't have kissed her.

Not then anyway.

Hermione woke early, excited and nervous about breakfast that day.

Lily and Emily who had no idea why one would be so enthused about toast in the Great Hall at 7am on a _Saturday_ made her wait while they both showered and dressed, taking, in Hermione's opinion, entirely too long to dry their hair.

At an amazing only three outfit changes from Emily the girls finally made their way to the Great Hall, now at the more reasonable time of 830.

Hermione, who had been thinking of ditching her companions when Emily had insisted on a ten minute discussion of what perfume Sirius would probably like more, was infinitely glad that she hadn't when she entered the Hall.

Her usual reserved seat at the table was horrendously and obviously obscured, Remus wedged tightly between Sirius and James. Even Lily and Emily who had been snugly asleep last night and with no idea of the new development looked questioningly at Hermione.

Hermione had difficulty hiding her hurt expression.

Remus had looked up at the approaching girls but once seeing who was coming resolutely looked downward apparently finding his half eaten oats far more interesting.

The girls stopped short of the table by only a metre, Hermione whispered her excuses to Lily and Emily before hurrying back out of the hall, appetite completely diminished.

Not knowing where to go she ran towards the front doors, yanked them open and stepped out into the cold.

It was freezing, and she immediately regretted not brining her cloak down with her.

She had almost turned back towards the doors to go back inside when they opened behind her, revealing the person she had come out her to get away from.

Frustrated that he would refuse to sit with her but follow her immediately into the snowy grounds she turned resolutely away form him and made her way down the stone steps, adamant to put distance between them.

"My!" he called out pleadingly.

"Go away" she sniffed; hoping that he would assume it was just the cold.

"My?" he called more softly, coming up behind her.

_Damn the snow_, she thought. All she wanted to do is get away from him. To her it was obvious he regretted everything, she didn't need to hear it as well.

"No," she said more weakly than she had anticipated.

She felt warm arms wrap around her, pulling her around she fell into his chest, defeated and embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he muttered into her hair.

"What?" she sniffed again, her voice muffled by his robes.

He pulled her away from him enough to see her eyes.

There were tear tracks running smoothly down her cheeks and he felt his arms begin to shake as he reached to brush them away.

He had thought stupidly, the tears inspiring much more guilt than the cherished kiss ever could.

"Nothing," he answered her, before he brought his mouth down to hers.

Both forgot the cold air that whipped around them, their embrace enough to keep them warm against the blizzard cold.


	15. Chapter 15: The Prefect Bathroom Octopus

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

It didn't take long for the Hogwarts rumour mill to spread the news that the new girl My was now officially dating the quiet marauder Remus Lupin.

Hermione was not surprised at that.

After all, as one does as Harry Potter's best friends, she had often being victim of wild-fire-rumours.

What did surprise her however was the apparent interest in which their relationship took to the Hogwarts population, students and teachers alike seemingly greatly intrigued that Remus Lupin had openly declared a relationship.

At first Hermione took offence, not on her own behalf but for Remus. She didn't understand how so many people could find it unbelievable that he could have such a thing as a girlfriend.

When she vividly expressed her anger to Lily and Emily, enclosed within the girl's dormitories, the girls merely smiled serenely not at all caught in the fury that Hermione seemed to shoot like flames from around her.

Sensing that their disposition was only adding fuel to their curly haired friend's rage Lily and Emily interrupted Hermione's rampage, each girl taking a flailing arm and pulling her down to sit upon Lily's bed.

With Lily on one side and Emily the other the girls shushed the distraught girl into a manageable state of stiff irritation and implored her to listen.

Lily slowly explained to Hermione that it wasn't a slight against Remus' attractiveness or deservingness or any other such claim that she had made in her temper fit but rather a reaction to Remus' known 'bachelor' status.

Apparently, as Emily continued on to reveal, Remus, although in no way adverse to the female gender, as she could personally account for – Lily slapped her playfully, in a now-is-not-the-time type of way – Remus had never actually 'dated' girls before.

As far as Emily's gossip-knowledge extended too, being particularly friends with a couple of flirty and loquacious Ravenclaw girls, the Prefects bathroom was basically considered off limits after 10pm, under an unspoken agreement born out of quite a few awkward interruptions involving a very wet Remus and more often than not more than one girl.

Lily, being a Prefect, was astonished at this new bit of gossip, apparently under the belief that prefects were not allowed into the bathroom after 10 due to an elaborate story that James had (now obviously) invented. Lily wouldn't tell them what he had told her but both girls could tell she was bubbling with anger, either at James, or at herself for being so gullible. Either way, Hermione felt a little sorry for James, amused as she was as well at Lily's reaction.

Returning back to her own problem, Hermione thought that Emily's explanation, although answering her initial concern, seemed to then raise even more worrying points.

She rose absentmindedly from the bed, leaving the two girls to whatever the conversation had now diverged to and made her way down the spiral staircase towards the crowded common room.

She hesitated at the bottom step when she realised how crowded the room really was and how it would be virtually impossible to snag an armchair near the fire like she had vaguely planned to on her way down.

Before she could even consider wandering to the empty library (because although Severus had been out of the hospital wing for a few days he had not yet however returned to their regular nightly schedule, another concern that ate at her mind) she was pulled firmly by the wrist and tugged over an armrest to fall snugly into a warm lap.

Temporarily snapped out of her thoughts she struggled in the lap, although absurd even in her mind, thoughts of a dark shadow and a hot breath on her check, rough hands bruisingly crushing her into a wall…

The hands that were holding her steady at her waist released their grip and a voice that was so different from the one reverberating in her mind, warm and soft relaxed her struggle before she managed to squirm herself onto the stone floor.

"Shhh … My? My? I'm sorry. It's me. Remus," the voice swam softly in her ear.

She whimpered ashamedly and tucked her head into to the naturally crevice provided by his shoulder and neck, hiding the frightened tears that had sprung in the corners of her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated like a mantra into her ear, arms wrapping around to hold her close. "I should have thought."

If the tight grip around his neck was anything to go by, he didn't think she was going to let go for so time and he certainly wasn't going to make her, so he let her rest upon his shoulder, soothing her back with gently circles by his free hand.

James and Sirius who were sitting opposite Remus, squashed onto a sofa, watched the scene with bewildered curiosity, oblivious to the attack that had triggered her reaction, however Remus wasn't about to explain and when Hermione had quietened down and seemed to be gently sleeping on Remus lap they resumed their conversation of the best quality stinkbombs.

Not nearly time for bedtime, Emily and Lily made their way down to join the group not long after.

By her position on Remus, it seemed obvious that Hermione had been upset and Emily gushed her apologies at once about telling Hermione of the bathroom curfew and how she honestly hadn't thought about how it might bother her.

James and Sirius simultaneously burst into great gulping laughs at seeing the stern scowl upon their wolfish friend's face.

Emily seeing her mistakenness, and just a little bit scared of the menacing scowl, scampered quickly over towards another group of girls, conveniently on the other side of the common room.

Hermione, who had only been deeply relaxing and not really sleeping, stiffened almost imperceptibly but still enough that Remus had noticed.

Remus wasn't about to explain his bathroom fame, as really it was all due to the fact that he couldn't stand the scent of most females and had to hence wash them thoroughly before he could even think of kissing them, let her fane sleep to the others but whispered discreetly into her hair.

"Mostly rumours, and nothing for you to worry about," he breathed gently. "Promise."

It wasn't a lie. The tales were greatly exaggerated, a combination of Chinese whispers and over boasting girls. And it wasn't like he was going to continue his bathroom escapades, 'that is,' he thought 'unless it involves My.'

She tightened her grip in response, accepting his words and his promise, guilty that she could doubt him, and within moments she really was asleep, oblivious to Lily's reprimand of James and the so called 'Prefect bathroom octopus'.

Apparently Hermione had been in the past quite a while, for as she woke next morning (a snowy Saturday) it was to the excited chatter of Emily and Lily planning outfits for the Halloween Ball that was to take place the next Friday night.

She lifted her head from her pillow, only to be followed by the messy pillow of her hair that had flared out around her face during the night, a result of her forgetfulness to braid it the night before.

Rubbing her eyes and pulling the covers down, she jumped slightly on the spot when Emily let out a small scream.

Hand scrambling for a wand, it took her a moment to realise Emily's scream was directed at her.

"What?" Hermione asked shakily, not sure to be scared.

"That's it Lils, we can't put this off any longer," she said looking but not talking to Hermione. "Just look at that _hair_!"

Hermione huffed. Didn't they know there was nothing to be done about it? Unless she wanted to spend and hour each day and two bottles of product, her hair was going to stay resolutely the same – a mass of unruly curls.

Obviously, Hermione decided, they didn't know.

Lily and Emily pulled her out of the warm coverings pushing her dressing gown over her shoulders to stop her shivering and pulled her down to sit on the floor while the two girls circled her like dragons choosing their prey.

"I know you don't believe us, but Lils here really _is_ a master of charms. I don't know how she does it, but she's _amazing_, really! Just trust us."

Hermione, being no beginner to charms either, still doubted any success but admitted that Lily at least could do no harm, being adept enough at charms.

Lily stopped at the back of Hermione, wand tapping her chin as she decided the best method, and with a few showered sparks falling around her head, Hermione felt her curls changing around her face. It took a while before Lily was satisfied and after around half an hour, Hermione was finally allowed to see the result.

She gasped at her reflection; sure that Lily had charmed the mirror instead of her hair. But when a gentle hand confirmed the sleet ringlets her hair had obliging formed she had to accept that this was really what her hair looked like.

The dark chocolate brown hair was longer, the hair no longer stacked up in tight curls, it reached halfway down her back. Still curly, but sophisticated, the ringlets were larger and fell in soft waves.

Lily and Emily stood back admiring their handiwork (Emily having provided suggestion to Lily's wand-work).

"Will it – will it stay like this?" Hermione asked, unsure of the answer.

"Yep," replied Lily a wide grin on her face. "There's a counter charm, if you want to take it off, but unless you do, it should last for around a month. It might falter a bit after that, but I can easily teach you the charms, if you would like?"

"Umm ... yeah. I mean please. I mean," Hermione flustered, "I mean thankyou."

"No problem," Lily replied with a hug.


	16. Chapter 16: Pink Dresses

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

The week leading up to the Halloween Ball went surprisingly quick for Hermione. Severus remained evasive. He still had not returned to their evenings spent in the library, although Hermione would regularly wait for him at their table. In class he wouldn't answer her questions, ignoring her to the point of almost driving her insane.

She wondered if he believed it to be _her_ fault over the whole James/hospital fiasco. A notion that she quickly deemed as ridiculous since their feuds had famously existed before her, but a concern would hit her like a bludger every now and again, being beaten away with a stick only to zoom back, hitting her hard again when he would avoid her gaze and knock her hands away from their cauldron.

The only time he had even spoken to her that wasn't deemed strictly necessary by the class they were in was to make a disparaging comment about her hair ending with "I liked it better the other way."

Hermione sensitively patted her hair (finding all curls in place, for a change) and for a moment actually considering putting it back to normal. But remembering how everyone else had had nothing but compliments for her newly controlled bouncy mop, considered the fact that he was only trying to make a swipe at her and although this reassured her vanity (not that she would normally be called vain) it hardly made her feel better.

Nevertheless Hermione would spend an hour or so after dinner in the library, watching the doors, hoping that he would walk right on through, that the last few lonely weeks had only been a figment of her imagination.

Resigned and alone, Hermione would then make her way back to Gryffindor Tower (when the hallways were still quite full of meandering students) and spend the rest of her evening with Remus, who would have spent the time of her absence attending to his own schoolwork.

Her troubles and guilty mind induced by Severus' continual absence would melt away with only a smile from Remus.

She had barely thought of her life and friends of her own time over the last few days, Remus' presence inducing her to relax so much so that she even forgot to be mindful of 'slip-ups'. It was as if she had reasoned that even if only by the amount of time she had spent in the past (which seemed to be ever stretching) would have been enough already changed to have changed her known future as consequence if only by her mere presence. _Surely_, she argued to the waxing moon as she lay upon her bed teetering on the elusive edge of sleep, _Sirius is NOT that unobservant to not have noticed I bared an uncanny resemblance to _another_ Hermione Granger, even at the age of 13?_ And she certainly didn't presume him to be _that_ good at keeping a secret.

It must have been this relaxed state that she had wandered upon that had drawn her attention away from the fact that she was almost nearly dating a married man (even if it had 20 years to happen).

She was snapped (rather harshly) back into this reality when, one morning before the upcoming ball, Lily flaunted a pair of dress robes in a strikingly familiar shade of horrid pink

The material fluttered in her face like waves crashing onto Hermione's happiness, as Lily extended the robes for Hermione to take.

Ears full of a horrible buzzing that blocked out all other sound, including Lily's voice, for she assumed the girl was talking by the way her jaw was moving up and down, it took her a moment to realise Lily intended the robes for Hermione to wear.

As if she had just realised the robes were not made of material but of woven deadly snakes, Hermione leapt backwards away from the dress, tumbling over her bed which had been closer than she had calculated.

Rubbing her throbbing head, which she had hit on the bed poster in her tumble, Hermione quickly tried to amend her actions seeing the hurt expression of the red head girl in front of her now cradling the robes to her chest in a protective manner.

Hermione didn't know how to explain her actions and in retrospect looking back on that day could never rightly remember what she had said, but whatever her muddled mind had chose to spurt the girl had seemed to accept, brightening up and pulling out a much more acceptable pair of turquoise dress robes, in the process admitting that she was glad Hermione didn't like them anyway, because they were her favourite.

Hermione, always being a little bit selfish – being an only child after all, was so surprised to hear this she couldn't help asking why then Lily would offer them to her in the first place?

Lily had merely shrugged, saying that Hermione had someone to impress where as she didn't.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Hermione had returned playfully.

Lily, head still stuck in her closet, had turned to face Hermione now, hand on her hip and eyebrow raised as if daring her to say his name.

Hermione took the challenge with glee.

"You know James has asked you to the ball 25 times now by my count –"

She was cut off by a shoe, thrown with aim at her head.

"Hey," she complained, narrowly missing the shoe and picking up her pillow. "Shoes hurt," she whined throwing the pillow at Lily, who jumped across to reach her own.

Lily looked like she was about to return the fire, poised kneeling on the bed and pillow in hand, but before she had risen the pillow an inch from the bed she had slumped back down onto the covers, looking at the pillow case with dreary interest.

"Actually it's been 34."

It took Hermione a second to realise that she was referring to James.

"Oh Lils," Hermione sighed, empathetically.

"I think… I think I really like him My." Lily began slowly, eyes still downcast to the pillow in her hands.

Hermione waited, sensing there was more.

As if on cue, "It's just – it's like…"

She looked up a fierce determination set on her face.

"_Everyone_ knows that he likes me. _Everyone! _I don't doubt really that, at least… perhaps, in the beginning… he might have.

"But _now_? I just really don't think so – it's like it has just become some… big _game_ for him!" She waved her hands dramatically through the air to emphasize her point.

She became quiet, her frame drooping even lower.

Hermione moved from her bed over to her depressed friend. She put her hands on Lily's shoulders reassuringly and waited for Lily to look up at her.

"I don't think so," she said with a small smile.

…

In the end Lily hadn't totally agreed with Hermione, and she certainly wasn't ready to accept one of James' invitations (or wedding proposals, depending on his mood at the time) but Hermione did notice that she had started to receive them with a little more patience.

If Hermione had had her way she was sure that James and Lily could and would have been enjoying the happiness she was feeling with Remus at that moment but she was at least partly contented with Lily's improved James-tolerance that allowed them all to sit together in the common room for a full hour before seeing a single fight, said fight resulting in Lily storming off, indignant. Nevertheless an improvement.

As Lily's mane of fire disappeared up the staircase, James scowled annoyed at Sirius, who had caused the fight by bringing up a recent prank they had played on a Ravenclaw Prefect, sticking his tongue to the roof of his mouth, making him unable to dock points from them on one of their night time prowls to the kitchens.

Hermione ignored them, uninterested in their pranks as long as they didn't cause serious harm, and turned to Remus who was sitting half behind her, book open in his lap.

"So do I get a flower for my hair?"

"A flower for your hair?" he replied clearly confused, looking up cautiously form his tome, wondering what he had forgotten.

"The ball of course," she smiled smugly.

His face dropped and he looked ashamedly guilty.

Her heart clenched, fear gripping tight at the thoughts of why he may be guilty.

"I was only joking Remus, you don't have to get me a flower –" she attempted bravely, but at the same time sure her shaky voice had given her away.

"No, no, it's nothing like that," reading through her as if she was made of nothing but glass.

She breathed out a small breath she had not been sure she had been holding, but the fist constricting her heart did not lessen its grip.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I shouldn't have kept putting it off for this long..."

She shook, despite his reassuring arms now wrapped around her from behind.

"I can't go to the ball; it's my aunt again –"

He didn't finish his sentence as the body he was holding struggled to turn, a tiny fist hitting his chest.

"You stupid git," she squealed. "Making me think – making me think – I don't know what!"

He laughed and pulled her close.

"So you're not upset?" he asked after a moment of contented silence.

"No." She answered simply, his arms rubbing up and down her sides making her shiver in a delightfully pleasant way.

"I don't think I'll go to the ball now though."

He looked at her curiously, tilting his head to the side.

"It wouldn't be any fun without you there of course," she admitted.

"Ahh but that's why one keeps devilishly attractive single friends close by," winked Sirius, across from where they sat and obviously listening to their conversation.


	17. Chapter 17: Ball Me Over

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Truthfully Remus wasn't very pleased at the thought of Hermione attending the Halloween Ball with Hogwarts' biggest womanizer.

It wasn't that he didn't particularly trust Sirius, or Hermione for that matter, but the question continued to niggle at his mind of why the horny male, fasted tracked on his way to Witches Weekly's 'hottest piece of wizard-arse' yearly top 100 list – a position in the top 10 almost guaranteed to him post-graduation, would choose to take the _only_ girlfriend of his best friends? He was of no doubt that Sirius could choose to take any witch he would deign to ask. But, no. He had to take the one witch for whom he should not be asking. _His_ witch.

Remus' inner wolf growled in appreciation of this thought. _His_.

Packing the few things he would be taking with him to his monthly refuge, a rundown shack in Hogsmeade, Remus reflected that the last few days had been the most peaceful pre-transformation days he had endured in… well, in his entire memory. The only change he could deem accountable to this drastic improvement in a period that had more often than not had him confined to bed rest, extending his period of inactivity to nearly a week each month, was the presence of, a one, Hermione Granger.

Perhaps it was for this reason that he just couldn't bring himself to correct his boundary stepping friend when he knew Hermione had been so looking forward to her first Hogwarts event (having overheard her talking to Lily over breakfast in a fast paced discussion of dresses). After all it gave him no comfort to picture Hermione sitting alone in her dormitory; in contrast, he suspected that the guilt would only be an added extra pain to his tremor wracked body as his transformation would shake his bones to the point of incomprehensible strain.

He was just placing two bars of his dwindling chocolate supply on to the top of his small pack when there was a sharp rap on the boys' dormitory door. It was still early in the day, the sun barely peaking over the mountain peaks and so the rest of his dorm mates were still asleep as Professor McGonagall entered the quiet dorm. The noise however must have been enough to have awakened Prongs as he abruptly sat up straight in his bed. The sudden movement made his covers slip down into his lap, revealing his naked chest. Upon discovering his female Head of House standing in the middle of the dormitory he let out a rather feminine squeak and fumbled to pull the fallen sheets up to under his chin. Not all the boys must have been as soundly asleep as Remus had assumed because in response to James display the room was filled with a muffled but distinct deep laugh. James timidly reached out one bare arm and pushed, rather forcefully, the shaking lump that lay on the bed next to his own.

Sirius, unaware to the attack, fell ungracefully out of his bed, legs still tangled into the sheets and naked back hitting the cold stone floor. Without access to the protection of the sheets he lay sprawled on the floor in only a pair of red silk boxers.

"Not so funny now, hey?" joked James apprehensively, eyes peering over the top of his high drawn covers.

Professor McGonagall picked up Remus' bag with one hand, placing the other wearily over her eyes. Leading Remus out of the door her mumbles could be distinctly heard as she retreated down the stairs, questioning 'whatever happened to pyjamas these days?'

…

"So what do you think?" Lily asked admits a demonstrative twirl.

"Oh Lily!" was all Emily could apparently say as she gushed over the dolled-up red head.

Hermione, although not shocked into illiteracy, had to admit that if not for her new found hair-confidence, she would have currently been reconsidering walking into the ball with such gorgeous competition.

On that thought, Hermione happily corrected herself that there was no competition tonight for her, knowing her own boyfriend was locked away from all the pretty girls parading their assets to the Hogwarts male population that night.

Still she wanted to like nice for her 'date' with Sirius. Her hair was let out, the graceful dark chocolate curls resting upon the low back line of the soft borrowed turquoise dress robes.

For once she was actually happy with her appearance, but modest enough to admit that Lily truly did look stunning in comparison.

Lily's pink dress (a thought fashion faux pas in itself for a red head) was amazingly striking with Lily's soft features. The material hung in perfect waves from her small curves and her brilliant green eyes for which she was so remembered for shone like bright emeralds, drawing attention like no piece of jewellery every could.

Excited for her friend and the possibilities, at least for Lily, that the new night could hold Hermione made her way down to the common room the three girls linked through at the elbows.

The remaining Marauders met the girls, as all gentlemen should, at the bottom of the staircase allowing them the cliché female entrance. And even though the gasps and exertions of surprise and amazement may have been slightly over exaggerated, particularly in the case of Sirius feinting over backwards and collapsing over one of the lounge chairs after which he had to be fanned back into consciousness by an attending James, the girls chose to accept it, taking it into their stride and walking with their chins poised high.

Lily hadn't ended up accepting any of James' invitations of accompaniment for the night but nevertheless she switched Emily's arm for James' with the appearance of eased practice as they headed out of the portrait hole and down towards the Great Hall.

Sirius smirking knowingly at the couple in front of them, gallantly offered Hermione his hand in an exaggerated imitation of James and she took it giggling.

Emily's date, a tall dark haired Ravenclaw met them outside of the Gryffindor entrance and Peter scurried off to meet his Hufflepuff date.

Emily hung back to greet her date, and Sirius and Hermione continued to follow James and Lily who Hermione suspected where completely oblivious to their dwindling group.

The Hall had been decorated as was usual for a Halloween feast, floating pumpkins providing illumination in replace of the normal floating candles. Live swarms of bats flew in clusters across the clear night sky that shone through the enchanted ceiling. The Hogwarts ghosts glowed iridescently in the dimmed lighting, fitting perfectly with the theme. The long house tables had been replaced once again with the smaller round tables that had been used for the Yule Ball.

The Hall was already almost full and a band Hermione didn't recognise was situated in one corner where a space had been cleared of tables in anticipation of dance space, although they hadn't started to play yet.

Sirius led Hermione through the throng of people crowded in the Hall to find an empty table. People seemed to leap away, honoured to provide space for Sirius Black to walk pass and the girls seemed to jump back just as quickly into Hermione's way as soon as Sirius had passed, a glare on their faces as she was pulled through by Sirius' guiding tug on her hand.

After tugging her through the closing path for the third time, Sirius stopped in his step, waiting for her to make up the small gap between them. He smirked at her frustration and continued their path to the back section with his hand around her waist not allowing the jealous females to obstruct her path again.

Sure enough the crowd thinned and they found an empty table.

Sirius held out a chair for Hermione and Hermione took the seat placing her small bag upon the table.

"You really do look ravishing tonight My," he whispered into her ear as he slipped into the seat next to her.

She blushed, but accepted the compliment, as Lily and James emerged from the crowd, spotting them and altering their path to their procured table.

The remaining places at the table were filled by some other Gryffindor couples that Hermione vaguely recognised and dinner was served fairly quickly.

Lily had sat next to her and the two girls whispered and conversed about the curious couplings that had emerged for the ball and some of the horrendous robes that witches thought attractive.

When dinner had cleared the band started playing and Dumbledore immediately led out a pink-faced McGonagall onto the dance floor and swung her around in a waltz.

Not a minute later Sirius had stood up and moved in front of Hermione's line of vision.

"Would milady care for a dance?" he smiled at her dazzlingly as he extended his hand in a small bow.

"How could I refuse?" she replied, slipping her small hand into his much larger one as daintily as the lady he was referring to.

Once standing out of her chair, he swept her out onto the cleared floor next to the dancing Professors and twirled her into his embrace.

She met his twirl with grace, placing her hand upon his shoulder to stop her from bodily greeting him.

He raised an eyebrow, sure that she would have faltered and disappointed as to not have felt her body pressed upon his.

He quickly stepped into the practiced movements of a ballroom dance, eager to impress. He was known to do this with all the ladies, impressing them with his dancing skills, that had been impressed upon him from the time he could walk as was custom for a pureblood child. Alerting the lady to his expertise he would then graciously slow down and simplify his dance motions to a workable level for them and allow them to melt into his suave arms. Although Hermione wasn't technically _his_ to impress, he reasoned that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy a _dance_ with her. _Did it?_

What he wasn't expecting however was for Hermione to meet him step for step. Which she did. Perfectly. Surprised but determined, he sped up his movements and complicity. Sharp turns were met with a proficiency denied the possibility of an amateur who knew how to follow a lead.

Three full dances they flied through until finally he stopped for rest. He hadn't realised how much energy he had spent until he noticed Hermione panting for air, resting a tired hand upon his chest to steady herself.

"Satisfied… yet?" she panted breathlessly.

Hermione had taken dance lessons as a small girl. Her parents worried at her 'unhealthy' obsession with books had enrolled her in the local dance school to hopefully encourage her to make friends.

She hadn't made any friends but she did enjoy the dancing, a hobby she continued on her summer vacations from Hogwarts.

"Sorry," he panted, breathless too. "Got a bit carried away, I guess."

She laughed and then suddenly conscious of the hand on his chest she removed it.

"I'll go get us drinks. Meet you back at the table?" Sirius asked.

"Yeah, sure," she replied with a small smile.

She started to walk back across the room, but the dancing had made her cheeks flushed with heat and the enticement of the open doors was too much to pass up and so she silently slipped outside, content that Sirius would find another dance partner without her.

The air was chilly but the garden had been lit for partygoers to linger outside. A dark lone shape moved against a light and Hermione, for a moment, regretted her venture outside alone. But as he turned to see the newcomer the light passed across his features and she sighed in relief. _Severus_.

It was oddly reminiscent of the older Snape she knew, who would spend his balls out in the gardens blowing apart rose bushes, with fiery curses.

"You shouldn't be out here alone," he said to her dispassionately, turning back to stare at something in the dark she could not see.

"I'm not alone," she whispered just loud enough for him to hear. "You're here."

He laughed mirthlessly. "Exactly," he said.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" she spoke louder, anger overcoming any other feelings.

He turned to her, a horrible sneer upon his face. "Go back inside to your _Black,_" he spat the name at her with distaste.

"He's not _my_ Black," she whispered only for something to say, not quite sure what had changed in her friend.

He laughed again, that same empty hollow sound. "Oh that's right," he amended, "your Lupin's bitch."

Her jaw twitched in anger, but she reminded herself that he didn't mean it, she _knew …_ that deep down he didn't mean these words.

"You know what he is, don't you?" he asked omnisciently, looking back into the darkness.

And that's when she realised that he wasn't looking at something in the darkness, but rather something shining through it. A bright lit orb, full and round, hovering low on the horizon.

"Don't," she reprimanded shaking her head back and forth, "just – **don't**."

She turned away and walked the short distance back into the shelter of the castle, she didn't want to hear any more.


	18. Chapter 18: Uncle Albus

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

"How do you feel?"

"Horrible."

"Hmmm… well I'm no healer… but let me see what I can do…"

Hermione lifted herself up from the floor and slinked her way up his long, lean legs to straddle his lap. The plush armchair was wide enough for her to settle her knees either side of his thighs and she draped her arms lazily on top of his broad shoulders.

Her fingers danced at the back of his neck, playing with the tendrils of hair that rested there, as she cocked her head to the side in a considering manner.

"What about _this_?" She said as she leaned down to touch her own lips with his.

The kiss was soft and lingering but she had pulled away before Remus had had a chance to respond.

His eyes widened in surprise but now keen to the game she was playing he felt only the need to partake in her 'healing'.

She didn't wait for a response to her question and lent in almost immediately again. "Or this?" she asked, tilting her head in another direction, angling the kiss to the opposite side of his mouth.

Again the kiss was soft and sweet, and just as Remus' lips moved against hers she pulled away, a knowing smile curving her pink lips.

Denied, Remus growled, his hands lifting to cup her buttocks and pull her into him.

She yelped in playful surprise, her small hands gripping his larger shoulders to steady her upper half.

This time it was Remus to initiate the kiss, hard and powerful, full of lust, his tongue demanding access to the full extent of her mouth.

Once satisfied, he allowed her to collapse into his embrace, her head resting on his shoulder and his hands moving up to stroke her back affectionately.

"How was the ball?" He asked after a long moment of silence.

"Horrible."

Christmas came and passed.

James' parents had gone away for the holidays and so, not wanting to be separated, the boys had all chosen to stay at the castle.

Hermione was glad for the company, keeping her distracted in a time that she would usually have spent with her own family.

Sirius had questioned at one point about her returning home to her 'family' for the holidays, and not wanting to lie about the 'parents' Dumbledore had given her but about who she knew nothing about she had deflected the question, replying that she would still be with family because she had her 'Uncle Albus' there.

However, since this parental/holiday conversation Remus, to Hermione's endless frustration, had suddenly decided to become more distant.

At first she had been worried that he had been suspicious of her answer and for days was sure that he was on the verge on confronting her about her deception.

But the holidays passed without confrontation, _or anything else_ she would add bitterly as the days passed and the emptied girls' dormitory remained to be not taken advantage of.

Just when Hermione had been sure that she had found someone that she truly cared for and (she had thought) cared for her back things had seemed to taken a step back. Remus and Hermione had only shared kisses but the passion and lust had been escalating to a point where Hermione was sure that soon one of them would soon break their chasteness. And just when Hermione had mentally prepared herself for that enviable point in their relationship, when she had been in fact looking forward to it, and _hoping _for Remus to take the initiative, he suddenly seemed disinterested.

When she would go to sit on his lap he wouldn't outright deny her access but no less than five minutes later he would need to go upstairs to retrieve a book he had forgotten, or remembered a letter he forgot to post, or needed to use the bathroom, or just about anything to abstract himself from her.

They would still kiss, but only when other people were around so as to be sure it was simple and short.

Sure that he was only delaying their break-up now, and positive that everyone else knew it too, Hermione made her way, sullenly, to the Headmasters office, on his summons, on a chilly afternoon in late January.

"Ah, Hermione," Dumbledore welcomed her and gestured for her to take a seat in front of his desk.

He didn't take his seat behind it but instead took the one next to her own.

It made Hermione feel more relaxed but at the same time it was disconcerting to see the old, wise wizard on equal grounds with herself. It made his often assumed omniscience seem very childish, squashing her hopes that this extraordinary wizard could somehow get her home, because he, being Dumbledore, could do anything … _right?_

After he had conjured two goblets of steaming hot coco, Dumbledore explained that he had for some weeks been trying to contact an old friend of his, a retired wizard by the name of Albert Waffling –

"You mean _the_ Albert Waffling? The famous magical theoretician?"

Dumbledore chuckled at her amazement "Yes, the very same."

He continued that since their own mutual search through known magical theory of time travel had reached an unsatisfying conclusion, namely none, he had finally tracked down his old comrade and had presented him with a theoretical question of extreme time travel.

"I hope you do not mind, but it came to the point where Albert would no longer believe my theoretical ponderings to be purely based upon a hypothetical situation and after some thought I conceded to tell him the watered down tale of your position."

Although apprehensive, Hermione trusted Dumbledore's choice, knowing he only had the best interests in mind for her.

"Unfortunately, even with the details, Albert's conclusion may be of little use to us. He seemed to be of the opinion that the details regarding your time travel and more specific the actual device that facilitated the move will dictate the rules of your return."

Hermione sighed reluctantly, "That makes sense," she admitted. "It would explain the reason that there are no determined facts about this kind of phenomenon. I mean – if there was never a device known that could facilitate extreme time travel they wouldn't have anything but a theoretical idea and even then how can you theorize about a device that doesn't exist or have plans of construction?"

"Sadly, I'm inclined to agree also," Dumbledore said softly, almost apologetically.

"Am I also correct to assume that you are not familiar with the device that has sent you back to us?" he asked already knowing the answer.

Hermione shook her head, not looking up but instead examining her hands that were resting in her lap. She was disappointed but it was no so poignant to make her really upset, she had been preparing for this after all.

"It does not mean that you may never return Hermione," Dumbledore reminded her gently. "What we can only assume is that, since the device did not make the journey with you, your return, it is to say, is not in your hands."

They sat in silence for a while, letting it all sink in.

"Thank you, Professor" Hermione said, finally looking up.

"Your welcome, child" Dumbledore smiled. "I'm glad to see at least that you have taken my advice in settling in here, in this time. I can't help to notice that you have seemed to have made a few friends, perhaps even more so with one young man in particular?"

Hermione let out a small laugh at his gentle prodding but it quickly diminished as her thoughts turned to the 'young man' he was referring to.

"Remus Lupin has had a … a somewhat troubled life," Dumbledore continued, omniscience returning full force.

"I know that Professor," Hermione admitted exasperatedly.

Slightly surprised Dumbledore reclined back into his chair, considering the bright young witch in front of him.

"You figured it out?" he questioned cautiously.

She laughed abstractedly, "In a way, I guess."

"Have you thought of telling him that you are aware?" Dumbledore continued.

Hermione's brow furrowed in slight annoyance. The subject felt close to her and she didn't see where Dumbledore was going with his line of questioning. Did he think she could trap Remus, tell him that she knew his secret and not allow him to break up with her as he was so obviously planning? Did Dumbledore just want to rub it in?

Hermione shook these ridiculous thoughts about the kind man in front of her out of her mind.

"What would be the point, sir?" she asked, her resolute sadness etching every syllable.

"He came to see me. Did you know?" his tone seemed genuinely inquisitive.

"No."

"Apparently in the happiness your presence has inspired in these last few months it had slipped his mind that I was, as we had advertised, your 'uncle'."

"Sir?" she questioned, understanding escaping her grasp.

"He thought to seek me out to apologize for endangering you. He thought it a betrayal – of a kind – to start dating my niece when I had, in his words, done so much for him. I admit that it was trying to get him accepted into the school, past the board of governors, but I want you to know that I have never and will never hold anything against that young man."

"I know sir," Hermione felt to reassure him. "But then, what did you tell him?"

"Well, not knowing your own extent of knowledge on Remus' condition, I only went so far to assure him of my acquiescence towards any relationship but suggested it might be prudent that you were made aware of the circumstances before the relationship progressed."

Hermione didn't even wince at Dumbledore's allusion to her 'progressing' relationship but instead sat stock still in her chair as all the bits of information fell neatly into place.

As each piece revealed Remus' recent strange behavior her anger steadily increased.

She rose from the chair, her anger expressed in her balled fists, clenched by her sides.

She thanked the Headmaster once more but left before he had the chance to return her farewell. So intent was she on her destination she ran into no less than five students headed on their way down to dinner. She wondered if he had gone down already what she would do. As luck would have it she didn't have to decide. He was there. And alone.

She walked into the common room and spotted him immediately in his usual chair near the fire. There was no-one else there so she didn't have to wait.

Unlucky for Remus who was intent on avoiding her gaze he did not realize her temper until it was too late, Hermione two feet away when he stood from his chair.

He wasn't on his feet for much more than a second before two small but firm hands pushed him roughly backwards sending him sprawled backwards on to his seat.

"Hermione? What –?" he started raising himself up again.

"Where you _EVER_ going to tell me?" She shouted pushing him back down. Her hair crackled with energy, the ends lifting slightly, creating a fierce image of magic and fury combined.

"Hermione, I don't know what you're –"

"You thought you'd rather let me go than tell me your secret?" she continued, ignoring his interruption.

"_Tell me_ Remus! Tell me what you were thinking because it really can't be anything worse than what I am imagining!"

When it seemed apparent that she wanted a response Remus could barely remember what she had asked, only one thought reverberated through his mind: _she knew_.

"Who – who told you?" he asked, panic written on his face.

Immediately he knew it was the wrong thing to say, her shoulders slumped and her face fell as if he had just stolen her last the hope in the world, irrationally he suddenly wanted the angry Hermione back, anything being better than this defeated one.

"Don't worry," she said as if she was no longer interested in this conversation. "I worked it out myself and I'm not going to tell anyone."

"H- How?" he asked, unsure of what to say but not wanting her to leave just yet.

"I had a friend. I know the signs." It wasn't a lie after all.

"I- I ummm … How long have you known for?"

"Since before this started," she stated gesturing between them.

"You've – I mean – You've known this whole time?"

She didn't answer, he already knew.

"But I – I just thought, if you'd known, you wouldn't have wanted … It really doesn't _matter_ to you?" he asked incredulous and scared of her answer at the same time.

"Of course not Remus. I love you."

The words just slipped out, but as soon as she had said them she knew they were true. Hot, thick tears burned her eyes and she turned away from him to hide her embarrassment. The words were true but she wished she hadn't said them, the sting of a love unreturned piercing her lungs and denying her breath.

Seconds passed like hours and she couldn't think, she couldn't breathe. And like a child that had just had a very tiring day, she just wanted to go _home_.

She hadn't realized her shoulders were shaking until strong arms steadied them.

"Breathe," he whispered his own breath warm on her cheek. "Just breathe."

She did. Slowly, but surely, allowing the air to fill her starved lungs.

Without the energy to fight she allowed him to lead her to sit down on one of the empty leather couches. He sat beside her, placing himself to face her.

She couldn't look at him but his hand lifted her chin giving her no choice.

Through her own tear clogged eyes she met his.

"I'm so sorry Hermione." He whispered his voice croaky, like she imagined hers would be.

He released her chin but she stayed where she was.

"I was so selfish," his voice implored her to listen. "I just didn't think I could bear you to reject me if I had told you what I … what I really am."

She lifted a hand to cup his cheek, but he shook it off and captured her hands in his instead, squeezing them gently.

"I'm not so stupid. I know what my life will contain once I leave these walls. I will be so lucky to meet half as many people as I know now that will accept me for who I am. I just couldn't stand _you_ rejecting me, because … because… well because – I love you. Too much to –"

He didn't finish as a soft body had thrown itself at his chest. Her wet cheeks pressed against him as their lips met. The kiss was nowhere near screen worthy, no great sonnets would be written about it, it was sloppy and wet, but mostly it was the physical expression of their desperation to feel one another again. Just to feel.

His hands wrapped around her back to press her closer. Their lips finally separated as their lungs both screamed for air and her hands, wrapped tightly around his neck, threatened to deny him breath.

"I love you My," he whispered placing a kiss upon her forehead and turning his cheek to rest his head on top of hers. Her grip around his neck had loosened but she showed no signs of letting go, and he for one hoped that she never did, because in that moment he was sure that he was never going to let her go.


	19. Chapter 19: Can't Sleep

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Inevitably the moon waned to it's fullest form and Remus was once again sequestered in the shrieking shack much too soon.

It was a Friday so Hermione spent the day in classes but as the sun set, and the occupants of the castle retired to their common rooms, Hermione felt increasingly agitated. She certainly didn't feel like sleeping, knowing Remus was out there alone and in pain. She knew there was nothing she could do however so she pulled out her homework and started on her Transfiguration essay. It was a good distraction and took her quite a while. By the time she had finished the common room was completely empty. She guessed it must have been about 2am but she still doubted her ability to sleep. Nevertheless she made her way up to the girl's dormitories. Lily and Emily were soundly asleep so as silently as she could she slipped on her pajamas and climbed into her bed.

She turned on her side and waited for sleep to overcome her but Emily hadn't closed her window and she found herself facing the open skies, a perfect view of the rounded orb framed by the curtains. Cursing she turned over and squeezed her eyes shut. But sleep continued to evade her and now the back of her head tingled as if the moon was shooting beams at her through the window, coaxing her to turn over towards it.

She picked up her watch and squinted through the darkness to read the dial in the dim light.

It was three in the morning.

Hermione sighed, her eyes were heavy but she still couldn't sleep. All she could think of was Remus. She strained her ears as if perhaps if she tried hard enough she might hear his call, but it was fruitless -Remus was too far away.

Hermione pulled back the covers, tiptoed out of her bed and around Emily's towards the open window. She peered outside but the tower was facing the wrong way and she couldn't see the Whomping Willow that held her thoughts. Disappointed she turned her back to the window, contemplating whether to try to sleep once again, but the bed held only the promise of more unrestful hours so instead she made her way out of the room and headed downstairs towards the empty common room.

The fire had long since died out and Hermione felt chilled realizing she had left her dressing gown upstairs and was only clad in a pair of silk shorts and short sleeved shirt.

She could see the grounds through the window of the common room and a thought struck her that perhaps she might be able to see the tree from the boys' dormitories since they were facing the other way than then girls'.

Quietly she made her way up the spiral staircase, stopping outside of the room she knew that the sixth year boys shared.

She pushed the door open cautiously and peered inside. One of the beds had the curtains drawn but the two lumps in the others signaled the sleeping forms of the remaining boys. Remus' bed rested undisturbed in the corner near the window.

She moved to said window and gripped the ledge. The cold stone was freezing to her fingertips but sure enough directly below the window could be see the large swaying branches of the tree that caged her wolf. Her Remus.

The branches swayed with a non existent wind, mysterious against the backdrop of still trees. It danced its own dance and Hermione felt content to watch its performance, somehow feeling closer to its prisoner just by being able to gaze upon it.

"If he knew you were worrying about him it would only make him feel worse," came a sleep muffled voice from her left.

"Sirius," she smiled guiltily.

"My," he replied yawning and stretching his arms above his head. He shuddered as his arms felt the cool night air and pulled them back under the sheets. He looked at her startled and pulled back a corner of his covers. "Get in here now! You'll freeze to death," he admonished.

Hermione smiled wearily and slipped in beside him obediently. "I couldn't sleep," she whispered as she curled up into his chest.

His arms wrapped around her sharing his warmth and she slipped a leg in between his.

"I know," he replied as he stroked her hair.

And that was all she remembered as sleep finally granted her welcome.

She was awoken next morning by the loud banging of the dormitory door.

It must have been late in the morning for the sun had fully risen and the rays blinded her vision so that she had to raise an arm to block the glare.

She didn't wait for her eyes to fully become adjusted as she made out the form of Remus standing only meters away from the bed.

Perhaps she wouldn't have bounded with such excitement towards the fierce young wolf if she had seen the look of contempt upon his face but, as the light was blinding her vision, she hadn't and instead happily pushed herself from the bed, kicking Sirius roughly in her eagerness.

Sirius groaned from the sharp pain in his leg but when he looked up, unlike Hermione, he didn't miss the disdain in his friends face, grimacing through the pain he quickly mouthed 'she couldn't sleep' towards his friend, hoping that he would understand.

Remus seemed to understand as his frown lines eased and he looked down upon the bouncing woman at his chest. She had first appeared as if she was going to throw herself at him but she had stopped at the last second, he thought, perhaps noticing his not-so-pleasant disposition.

Easing her worries he grinned wolfishly down at her and lifted her up for her to wrap her hands around his neck, his own hands cupping her arse forcefully.

Hermione snuggled her face into his neck, bestowing the juncture between shoulder and neck with soft kisses.

Remus growled in appreciation and hoisted her up further letting her feel his arousal against her soft body.

Hermione yelped in surprise, gripping his shoulders tight, her nails digging into his solid biceps.

Remus' sapphire eyes were full of lust as his peered into Hermione's glimmering brown ones.

Hermione sighed in contentment as he held her close, moving towards his own bed before throwing her down upon it.

His body trapped hers as he crawled over the top of her on all fours.

"Ah-hem," came an amused voice from somewhere behind Remus. "Are you forgetting something?" taunted James.

"I don't think so," Remus growled, his eyes not leaving Hermione's. Hermione thought she might melt from their attention alone.

He didn't break his hold on her eyes as he lowered his head either. His teeth grazed the buttons of her silk top as with a wicked smirk he used them to flick open her top button, moving onwards to the next.

"Ah, I think we'll just go, come on guys," Sirius beckoned as she could hear the hastened shuffling of the other boys, grabbing clothes and leaving the room as quickly as possible whilst Remus moved from button number three on to button number four.

"You do that," Remus replied, his voice a purr.

The door shut with a resounding 'bang' not more than a minute later as the last of them left.

Remus' hand had found his wand and he flicked it towards the door, a 'click' reverberating through the emptied room, before he threw the wooden stick to the ground, leaving both hands free to roam her body…


	20. Chapter 20: What About That Essay?

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

(A/N: **WARNING**: sexual content )

* * *

Remus' intent was unmistakable as his hands moved smoothly up Hermione hips, rough fingertips caressing her silky skin.

However the nerves resting in her skin were not the only one's that his caress was stimulating. Irrationally, Hermione started to curse whoever had designed her pajamas that, in her sudden opinion, were definitely lacking in the abundance of buttons. Or alternatively, she reasoned, deficient in the quality of buttons – perhaps the investment could have been made in ones that could not be removed so easily by teeth?

Either way Hermione's buttons were quickly abandoning their duty as Remus' wicked mouth flicked them out of place. Once the last lone button was released Remus nuzzled his head into the soft flesh of her stomach, his hair falling over his face to tickle her sensitive skin.

His movements caused the material of her open shirt to slide smoothly off the planes of her body and when Remus looked up he growled appreciatively at the sight of her naked breasts.

Hermione let out a small gasp as the cold air hit her nipples and the act seemed to remind her of her capability of speech.

"Remus?" she whispered to the man seemingly hypnotized by the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

His brilliant blue eyes flickered up to meet hers and he rose up to answer her question with a searing kiss. His tongue battled for dominance, which she gave easily. The kiss ended and as his mouth traveled down the curve of her neck Hermione continued, "Are you sure your feeling up to this? I mean – you mustn't put unnecessary stress on your body especially just after –"

"Hermione," he breathed, his words warm against her collarbone. "I am fine. Better than fine. And I assure you this is anything but unnecessary." He punctuated his sentence with a long lick along the top of her shoulder that made Hermione shiver pleasantly.

Desperate she raked her brain for anything that might deter him for just a few more seconds – "What – what about your Transfiguration essay? It's due Monday after all and it – it took me forever to finish mine and if you're feeling well now you might as well make use of it and – ummm – and … ahhh."

Hermione lost all sensible thought as his warm wet mouth attached to one of her nipples, sucking it into his mouth and flicking his tongue over the raised tip. One hand traveled up to cup the neglected breast as his other hand pushed its way underneath her pajama clad bottom, lifting it up and deleting the space that existed between their lower halves.

"I got an extension and I am making use of this time," Remus replied with the suspicion that Hermione no longer knew (or cared) what he was referring too. A suspicion confirmed as she let out an annoyed moan, pushing his head back to her breast and fingers pulling at the hemline of his shirt.

She managed to pull the shirt from his pants and pushed it up his back. Disgruntled that Remus had to once again de-attach from her breast to remove the offending item, she threw it angrily at the ground.

Remus smirked at her obvious impatience and ground his hips into hers to show her his likewise arousal.

The building pressure between her legs welcomed the feel of Remus' throbbing erection and she vaguely wondered if she really had been nervous ten minutes before?

Surely not.

Seemingly reading her telepathic entreaties Remus raised his hips slightly, leaving enough gap for their hands to frantically remove the others remaining cloth barriers.

Remus undid the drawstring to her silk shorts and hooked his fingers through the elastic of her knickers, drawing them both down in one smooth, practiced movement.

Hermione fumbled more with Remus pants, reaching a difficulty when attempting to pull them down his legs. Remus' longer arms reached down and helped her with his undress as smoothly as he had done hers.

As soon as they were naked they stopped. They were both panting, foreheads resting against each other and it slowly dawned on Hermione that she was naked. On top of a boy's bed. Naked!

"I love you," Remus whispered so softly that if the curtains had been blowing she might have missed it.

And she smiled as if Remus had just reminded her of something she had forgotten.

That's right, she thought, she was naked. And she wanted to be. Because she was with Remus. And she loved him.

He didn't expect or wait for an answer, and she thought that perhaps he really hadn't expected for her to hear him.

Slowly, gently, he moved his legs, one by one, knocking her knees gently out of the way, positioning his legs in between hers.

One hand cupped her jaw as his mouth gently captured hers, tongue sweeping softly against her lips as his other hand felt her gently at her entrance.

Her hips bucked wantonly as his fingers grazed her clit but they paid no attention to her swollen nub as they searched out her entrance, one finger dipping gently to test her readiness.

Satisfied by her wet passage the hand moved to guide his hardened length to rest above her dripping entry.

His lips tried to distract her attention but her mind followed the path of that hand as it again moved upwards, this time settling for a firm grip on her hip.

She could feel her nervousness returning as she was reminded of the fact behind her fear, but she did not have time to tense as Remus threw his body weight forward impaling her swiftly with his length.

She could feel the intense pressure and the searing pain as he tore his way through her untouched body.

Remus watched with wide eyes as hot, full tears escaped her clenched eyes, her mouth open in a silent scream. He had felt the break and knew what he had done without seeing her expression. He couldn't believe that the thought hadn't even crossed his mind that she could possibly be a virgin and immediately he felt guilty for what he had taken so freely, something of which he thought not to deserve.

"Don't," she gasped, in obvious pain. "Don't you dare feel guilty about this Remus Lupin."

He smirked at her knowingness; her eyes still clenched shut but her body correctly interpreting his tenseness.

"I love you," she managed painfully, her eyes opening to lock with his as her breaths deepened out slowly.

"This was my choice too, remember. And I choose you. I'm yours Remus. I'm all yours, please take me."

And so he did. Slowly but surely he withdrew only to plunge back in, controlled and smoothly.

Hermione was in pain, her nails digging more deeply into his back as he plunged more deeply within her but she made no noise to signal her discomfort and much sooner than he had expected she was removing her death grip and placing her hands upon the curve of his arse, lifting her hips up to meet him.

Remus had never taken anyone this way before, his wolfish side preferring a fast fuck against a wall rather than the tender caress of their current lovemaking. He had never thought he would enjoy a woman this way, but cradled inside Hermione's body he knew he had never felt such pleasure before and rather apart from being due to the tightness of her small frame he thought it rather from the pure love shining through her eyes. He thought that this was truly different from fucking, it really was lovemaking. And surprisingly neither man nor wolf complained, both trapped in the depth of her eyes and enjoying the depths of her body.

Surprisingly his slow pace did nothing to prolong his stamina and sooner than he had wished his body was tensing and he was throwing himself one last time inside the young witch, letting his seed fill her.

He knew she hadn't reached completion but she didn't seem to mind, his apologies waved off with a "You can make up for it next time."

His heart swam on a second high as her words confirmed the existence of a 'next time'.

He rolled onto his side and she snuggled into the curve of his body. Within minutes her breaths had evened out and the sleep that had neglected her the night before washed over her now.

Remus was not tired but had no desire to leave her. Cradling her small form to his hard body, he had never felt so at ease, man and wolf for the moment satisfied holding the woman that they had made theirs.


	21. Chapter 21: Okay

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Hermione woke up pushing away the something that was tickling her nose. She groaned in annoyance as it returned only seconds later.

"Stop it," she moaned to the thing, swiping at the air in front of her and rolling onto her back.

A deep chuckling forced her eyes open and she could see beside her an amused Sirius Black dangling what appeared to be her night-shirt above her. She reached up to grab it but he pulled it out of her reach at the last second and she was forced to grab the slipping sheets at her chest rather than follow her night-shirt.

She sat up in the bed, one hand holding the sheet to her chest and the other rubbing her eyes which were being affronted by the bright daylight of the room.

"Where's Remus?" she asked, trying to keep her voice nonchalant.

"He's in the shower," Sirius grinned mischievously, swinging the night-shirt in front of her again.

"Don't you want your clothes back?" he taunted.

Hermione eyed him warily wondering what his plan was. Had he jinxed her clothes? Or was he hoping she would have to drop the blanket to reach them? … Or both?

She shrugged her shoulders, letting the sheet drop just a smidge. "I dunno," she pretended to think as she watched his eyes transfixed to the curve of her half exposed breasts.

"I suppose you could just give them to me… or maybe I should just drop this?" She tugged on the corner of her coverings. "After all when Remus walks in do you think he would be angry with _me_? Or with _you_?" she smirked asked in fake innocence as his eyes widened.

"Absolutely evil," he shook his head in disbelief as she laughed.

"Oh look here he is now!" she said dropping the sheets and jumping from the bed as Remus walked in, a towel in one hand rubbing his damp hair.

Sirius squealed shrilly in a voice Hermione thought sounded similar to Pansy Parkinson's and dropped her clothes to the ground, both hands clapping tight over his eyes.

"I didn't – She – she's just uncontrollable mate – _honestly_!" He wailed in the direction he had last seen Remus.

Remus merely chuckled and walked over to where Hermione was standing, glorious in her complete nakedness. However, as Hermione tried to take a step towards him the ramifications from the previous night hit her and her legs suddenly went weak, knees crumpling, unable to support her. Remus was already close and he quickly closed the distance between them able to catch her before she fell completely to the floor.

With a small "oh" she was lifted into his arms and he was carrying her back to his bed.

She blushed ashamedly and muttered a small "sorry".

"Nonsense," he admonished as he pulled the sheets back up around her. "It hurts?" he asked gently and she nodded, not able to meet his eye.

"Here," he said pulling a small vial from his jeans pocket and passing it to her.

She looked at him questioningly, suppressing a giggle as she watched Sirius over his shoulder, hands still pressed firmly to his face, trying to maneuver himself out of the room but managing only to repeatedly ram himself into Peter's bedpost.

Remus turned to see what was amusing her and laughed openly at his friend somehow now stuck between a trunk, a bedside table and a bed, unable to find a way out.

"You can open your eyes now Pads, she's covered."

"Are you sure?" he asked worriedly.

"Promise," Hermione managed to reply, though her voice was shaking with the effort not to laugh.

Sirius released a sigh of relief and dropped his hands from his eyes.

"Thank Merlin, I'm out of here," he said as he scrambled over Peter's bed towards freedom.

Remus turned back to Hermione as he left, to see her studying the small pink vial in her hands.

"It's just a mild pain potion," he explained softly. "I told Madame Pomfrey I had a head ache which isn't this unusual for this time of the month."

"Thankyou," she whispered sincerely, leaning up to place a soft kiss on his lips.

She swallowed the potion in one gulp and was pleasantly surprised at it's sweet taste, remembering that the pain potions she had usually been given in her own time hadn't been that agreeable, nevertheless she could feel the pain ebbing away and she was able to sit up again a minute later.

Remus had got up and was rummaging through the trunk at the end of his bed. After a second he pulled out a non-descript black robe and threw it to her, pulling on a green jumper himself.

"It's probably the least conspicuous thing I have," he said apologetically. "Not that I wouldn't mind Gryffindor Tower seeing you parade around between our dorms in my clothes," he winked at her. "I just wouldn't wear _them_," he gestured to the clothes Sirius had been taunting her with, "anytime too soon."

Hermione eyed the clothes suspiciously, in complete agreement.

…

"I mean – can you believe it?" Emily asked, her eyes transfixed to the same spot Hermione's were – a couple sitting beside the lake, hands intertwined and oblivious to the world around them.

Emily and Hermione sat shoulder to shoulder on the steps to the castle, knees drawn to their chests watching the scene in silence, until Emily had spoken of course.

Hermione's grin widened and without turning to Emily she replied "Actually yes. Yes, I can."

"Lily Evans and James Potter?" Emily continued, voice full of awe. "James Potter and Lily Evans? Nope. Both ways, it still doesn't fit," she giggled.

"How about Lily and James Potter?" Hermione suggested.

Emily was quiet for a while as they continued to watch in silence.

"Perfect." Emily agreed.

Hermione was about to reply but before she could open her mouth a dark figure moved past her, robes swishing angrily in a personification of their owner's mood.

"Wait here," Hermione said rising to follow the retreating figure inside the castle.

She almost missed him, entering the hall just in time to witness him shooting around a corner that would lead him to the dungeons; she hesitated only for a second before running to catch up with him.

"Severus!" she yelled, panting as she ran down the fifth set of stars trying to beat his fast pace.

He turned around abruptly and swore loudly pulling her roughly by the arm and throwing her into an empty classroom before following her in and warding the door.

She stood, hands on the table behind her that she had used to steady herself from her rude Slytherin greeting.

"Hello to you too," she said sarcastically, rubbing her shoulder that he had grabbed painfully.

Severus showed no remorse for hurting her as he began to pace angrily in front of her.

"What were you thinking?" he yelled, finally stopping his pace and taking a step closer so that with his height he easily loomed over her.

"I was –"

"Trying to get yourself killed?" he answered for her.

"What?" He asked her shocked look. "You're werewolf boyfriend couldn't do that for you?"

_SLAP_.

Hermione shook with anger as Severus rubbed his jaw.

"So you did know then." There was amusement in his voice and Hermione felt like slapping him again. But she stopped herself as she saw something else on his cheek apart from the red mark she had just added. There were dried tear tracks running from his eyes. They were so pale she wouldn't have seen if they hadn't have been literally nose-to-nose but they were there.

"You've been crying," she stated numbly and Severus stepped back as if she _had_ hit him.

Severus stared at her aghast as she studied him.

"It's her isn't it? You love her."

She didn't need an answer; she could see it in his face.

"Don't do this to yourself. _Please_, Severus," she implored reaching out a hand towards his swollen cheek.

He stepped back, shaking his head.

"No," he whispered. "It's too late. She never wanted me anyway…Who would?" he added the last though bitterly.

"Don't say that." Hermione rebuked firmly.

"But it's true –"

"It's _not_ and you know that!"

"You wouldn't understand, everyone _loves_ you." His eyes were vacant staring at the floor, and Hermione's heart broke for him. "How could you understand?"

"But you _are_ wanted Severus, you are _loved_ –"

Severus scoffed dismissively and started to turn away.

Hermione reached out, her hand closing around his wrist to stop him from leaving.

"I _love_ you. I care for you. _Please,_ just – just don't turn away from me; let me be there for you."

Her hand was wrapped tight around his wrist and he was staring at it so intensely she looked at it too. It hit her immediately the fact that she was holding the bare pale skin of his left wrist that was for the first time she had ever seen, untouched … unmarked.

"Okay," he whispered.

Hermione smiled, tears in her eyes as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He crumpled in her arms and she wasn't sure that he was crying until she felt the wetness soak through her shoulder.

She let them both sink to the floor and she cradled him in her arms running a hand affectionately through his hair, and all she could think of was that pale wrist, his beautiful unmarred skin, and how she was determined that it was going to stay that way.

Not for her, not for the 'greater good' of the wizarding world, but for her friend – normally so formal and reserved – crying unashamedly on her shoulder.

…

That night Hermione pulled out the present that Professor Dumbledore had given her for Christmas. She had been surprised to receive anything from the Headmaster but appreciated the gift greatly, more so now than ever as she finally had need for use of it. It was a beautiful red leather bound diary but the _real_ beauty of it was it's inlaid magical properties. The diary would only open to her unique magical signature. Without it the pages would seal shut, no spell could penetrate their protective charm and if one so happened to break through the magical wards it would instantly consume the ink patterns contained within.

In other words it was the perfect diary with for a one with secrets.

Her afternoon with Severus had reminded Hermione of just how much influence she now had to change the horrible things she knew were set to happen. Previously she had tried to make as little as possible impact on the past but now as she, as Dumbledore had encouraged her, was making a life for herself in this time she was starting to look at things a little differently. _Technically _she reasoned Dumbledore had _almost _encouraged her to change the future, as she was sure would be the consequence of what he had suggested. Which brought her to her diary.

Hermione smiled. She had a list to make.

Inwardly she laughed at herself knowing that this was just the thing that Ron and Harry had always teased her about.

Nevertheless there was a lot of critical detail that she had to timeline if she was to be successful in her quest.

So she sat in the middle of the common room feet pulled up onto the chair and diary propped up against her legs.

She could see Sirius over the top of her knees and started her list with him.

She was determined. Sirius would not go to Azkaban. Sirius would not fall through the veil. James and Lily would not die on

Halloween, in their home at Godric's Hollow. Peter would not be given the chance to betray them. Harry would grow up with his parents; with those that loved him. Severus would not join the Death Eaters. And Remus … Remus would be okay if he had his friends.

She scribbled furiously filling page after page with every detail she could scrape form relayed memories.

She was not stupid. She could not tell anyone of these things. Not only would they not believe her she would then be forced to explain her situation and then if too many people knew, and it spread to the wrong people, she herself could get in trouble. Dumbledore too.

But it didn't matter because she was going to be there, she would be able to do this all herself.

Everything, everyone would be okay.


	22. Chapter 22: Quidditch Practice

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Sirius was adamant that there was a homework conspiracy between the Professors and, although Lily reminded him that it _was_ getting close to the end of year exams, Hermione had to agree that the mass amount of homework that they had been given over the following three weeks had made an astounding collection.

Although, she also considered, it could have been only the fact that she now had something other than study to occupy her days that had made the work seem so frustrating in it's ability to be infuriatingly time consuming.

Nevertheless, it had been consequently close to almost exactly four weeks since she had spent 'quality' time alone with Remus and the appreciation showed on both their faces when they went to hand in the last in a long line of essays one late Thursday afternoon.

Remus sighed in relief as his hand slipped comfortably into hers, making their way leisurely back to the Gryffindor common room from handing in their Arthimancy assignment.

"Feels good doesn't it?" Hermione asked swinging his hand a little with hers.

"Mhm," he agreed. "But I know something even better."

Hermione giggled as he tugged her across the empty hallway pulling her into the window alcove so they would not be seen by those looking down the hall and planted his mouth firmly upon hers.

"Mmm ... much better," she murmured against his lips.

He pulled away so he could look at her properly, his hand cradling her jaw as his thumb caressed her cheek affectionately.

"I love your laugh," he admitted.

Hermione couldn't help but smile at his heated gaze and sincere words.

"I love your kisses," she returned, leaning up on the tips of her toes to receive another.

He obliged her enthusiastically, tongues sweeping across each other fluently.

"Delicious," she licked her lips as the kiss ended and she pulled away.

Remus' eyes glazed over and his hands claimed her backside.

"Quidditch practice tonight," he informed her neck as he nuzzled the curls that fell over her shoulder.

She giggled again as his nose tickled her and he responded by giving a playful bite to her neck.

"But where will Peter be?" She asked practically as he lapped the small teeth from the bite with his tongue.

Small shivers flew up and down her spine settling in the pool that was being created between her legs and she completely missed his answer.

"Ah ... pardon?" she tried again.

He chuckled and pulled away from her neck to face her.

"Distracted?" He asked with an infuriatingly cute smirk that she just wanted to bite off his lips.

"I said - he has chess practice."

"Ah. So?"

"After dinner?" He suggested.

"Right. After dinner."

"Argh," Hermione yelled in frustration throwing another item of clothing onto the fast growing pile upon her bed.

"Lily! Help me, _please_!"

"Calm down, My," Lily chastised walking in from the bathroom applying her lip gloss to complete her perfect ensemble. "Oh my god, what are you doing?" she asked shocked at the mess created being created by her usually pedantic room mate.

Hermione half sobbed, falling onto the pile of clothes. "I don't know," she admitted defeated.

"Calm down," Lily soothed her friend wading through the mess to reach her.

"Now, tell me what's wrong," she implored wrapping her arms around the shoulders of her friend.

"I don't know what to do. What do I do?" she wailed brandishing a purple top still clasped in her hand.

"We are talking about Remus?" Lily questioned carefully.

"Yes," Hermione cried, her head falling into her hands as Lily stroked her back.

"I don't - I don't - I don't know what to _wear_! I don't what to _do_! I'm _scared_!"

"Hermione if Remus' is pressuring you -" Lily started sternly but Hermione was quick to cut her off.

"No! No, it's nothing like that."

"But then ... I mean - you _have_ - I mean this isn't the _first_ time you two have ..."

Hermione's face reddened to match Lily's hair.

"Yes, but -"

Hermione sighed despairingly. "We've only once. And well ... it wasn't exactly planned. But this time ... and I just don't know what to do!" she finished meekly, another sob wracking her small frame.

Lily waited for Hermione to calm down a bit, patting her back soothingly. It seemed to help and after a few minutes Hermione was at least breathing evenly again.

"I mean - I don't know what I am supposed to do? He said to meet him after dinner. Am I just meant to wait for him naked on his bed?"

Lily couldn't help but laugh at Hermione's dramatics.

"Well I'm sure he wouldn't be complaining if you did."

Hermione scowled at Lily's contribution which only increased the other girl's mirth.

"But it's not like -" Lily sobered as she pondered her friend.

"You weren't a _virgin_ before Remus where you?"

Hermione's shoulders tensed, annoyed at the disbelief in Lily's voice, but nodded to the question.

"Oh I'm sorry!" Lilly pleaded apologetically. "I didn't mean it like that, it's just that - well you're so _comfortable_ around guys and well ... I'm sorry!"

Hermione could tell that she meant it, and it _was_ true that she was generally friendlier with males than females. Lily and Emily had been her first real exceptions to that.

"It's okay," Hermione allowed really needing the help of her friend. "But what do I do?"

"Okay, let's see..." Lily took Hermione's hand, pulling her from the bed and surveying the ruin around them.

Two minutes after Remus had entered his dormitory Hermione realized she needn't have worried so much. Even if she didn't know what she was doing Remus definitely did and she wondered if he had even noticed the black lacy slip that she had worn as he pushed it up and over, exposing her naked body and laying her upon her back as he devoured her body with his hands and mouth.

She had also worn a matching lacy g-string but she was lost as to where that had went as Remus wasted no time, attaching his mouth to her soaking folds, sucking them into his mouth and his tongue teasing her entrance in large swirls.

Her back arched off the bed as his hands held her hips firmly in place.

Hermione moaned in pleasure, the feelings much more intense than she had remembered.

She knew that it couldn't have felt this good the first time because wrapped up in the pleasure of his torturous tongue she knew that if she had the choice she would never make herself wait _three weeks_ for this again!

His nose rubbed against her clitoris and her breath caught as her back stiffened ... _she was so close!_

And then ... nothing.

She opened her eyes vaguely wondering when she had shut them.

Remus had crawled up her body and was positioned above her on all fours but somehow not touching her at all.

His eyes locked with hers and thoughts of chastising him vanished as she became lost in his heated gaze.

"Touch me," he begged his voice low and full of something Hermione found completely indescribable.

Hermione rose a shaky hand and trailed it from the back of his shoulders slowly down to the low dip of his back, her other hand trailed nervously down to his upper thigh and, even more slowly, moved towards his swollen appendage.

Her small hand closed lightly around the base of his velvety shaft feeling him for the first time.

His arms propped onto the mattress by her shoulders shook as she moved her hand to the tip and she looked at him worriedly as his arms looked about ready to give way.

Not wanting to risk the chance of crushing her Remus fell to his side turning her to face him likewise.

Hermione's hands stayed upon him the entire time and now she moved the hand that had been caressing the top of his buttocks around to join her other.

With light fingers her hands moved through his coarse blond hairs, a finger trailing over his sac as her other explored the length of his shaft wondering if it had really fit in her before and if it would again.

Remus growled low in his throat and pulled her hands away.

"Enough," his voice rumbled.

Hermione looked up at him questioningly and just a bit worried but his eyes were hard and set as he picked up her leg pulling it over his thigh and pushing himself fully inside her with a single thrust of his hips.

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise and pleasure. It didn't hurt this time but she could feel him within her, filling her completely, a sensation new but completely welcome.

Her chest was pushed completely into his, her nipples grazing the light hair that adorned his pecks as he withdrew and pushed back into her in a smooth rhythm.

His hand remained behind her knee pulling her closer with every thrust pushing deeper and deeper within her.

His head leaned down to meet hers and their tongues danced in mirror to their bodies.

It wasn't long before the building pressure was returning, intense pleasure coursing through her body as another thrust sent her over the edge and falling into his arms.

Her walls tightening unbearably pulled Remus into his own release and they collapsed together sated holding onto each other tightly.

This time Remus fell asleep first, and Hermione very reluctantly removed herself from his arms, but only to pull the curtains shut and the covers over their naked forms before snuggling back into his side.

She sighed in contentment kissing the away the salty droplets of sweat that had formed on his chest before she closed her eyes and let sleep take her away.


	23. Chapter 23: Love Bites

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

"Remus Lupin!" 

Hermione shuffled uncomfortably in her sleep vaguely registering a shrill voice abusing her ear drums.

It was only when she felt Remus' hand roughly nudging her shoulder that she couldn't ignore the interruption and rolled herself off his comfortable chest and onto her back.

"Miss Granger?!"

Hearing her name called in that same screech she opened her eyes to the darkened room. Disgruntled doubly that she was being awoken before sunrise she looked sourly towards the figure at the end of the bed only to see her Head of House towering over their intertwined forms.

"Professor?" Hermione's voice shook as her face froze in shock, mirroring the older woman's expression.

"Shit," mumbled a deeper voice somewhere above Hermione's ear.

"'Shit' indeed Mr Lupin." Replied McGonagall and Hermione flinched as she heard that familiar hard tone, so familiar to the Weasley twins, for the first time directed towards her.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, anything, to somehow redeem herself to her mentor but the Professor held up a hand to stop her.

"No. I don't want to hear it Miss Granger. Suffice it to say I am _very_ disappointed, in the _both_ of you."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears. Although she knew she wouldn't have changed a thing she had done she felt ashamed to be so looked down upon by her dearest Professor.

"Detention. For you, Miss Granger. Do not doubt I would give the same to you Mr Lupin if you were not already to be indisposed this weekend."

Remus' hand stroked Hermione's arm discreetly as she struggled not to cry.

"Five minutes. I will be waiting in the common room. I will expect to see you ready to leave Mr Lupin and Miss Granger returning to her own dormitory. You have five minutes." And with that she swept from the room.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm okay really." Hermione brushed off his hand reaching under the bed to where she had placed her dressing gown the night before.

"No My, _I'm_ sorry. I shouldn't have fallen asleep. I knew she was coming in the morning and I should have at least told you in any case. I -"

"Don't worry about Remus," Hermione replied slipping the robe over her bare shoulders.

When he didn't look convinced she leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips.

"It doesn't matter," she insisted as she stood up to tie her robe shut. "Just make sure your okay ... I'll worry about you." She whispered this last part.

He smiled smugly at her confession and stood to gather his clothes.

"The boys are coming this time, I'll be fine," he replied.

Hermione pursed her lips but chose not to comment on this particular activity of the Marauders, she knew it was important to Remus as she remembered his older version once explaining to her.

"I love you," she chose to say instead.

"I know," he gloated, pulling out a small bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

She reached across the bed to slap him playfully but he caught her hand before she could the momentum causing her to belly flop across the bed.

"I love you too," he whispered, leaning down to brush his lips against hers.

Long shadows were splashed across the walls of the first floor corridor as Hermione walked alone after finishing her detention that night.

McGonagall had passed her onto Filch and he had proceeded to have her reorganize each and every store closet on the first floor taking an inventory as she went. Hermione scowled as she stormed back through the corridors, papers in hand ready to take to Filch's office as she had been instructed, it was obvious Filch was making her do his own work. Despite it taking most of the night, the time she was guessing would have been about one in the morning, Hermione was at least grateful for the distraction knowing that she would have else wise been destined to wait out the moon's setting without even Sirius to seek comfort from.

Just as the thought flickered through her mind a black form flickered past the window she had been passing.

"Sirius?" her voice echoed lightly in the empty hall.

She moved closer to the large arched window and pressed her face as close to the glass as she could without actually touching the cold plane.

It _was_ Sirius.

She could see the black dog bounding across the grounds, marking out a wide circle, and she looked through the darkness to try and see the others, slightly disconcerted at how close Sirius was to the castle knowing that their uncontrollable friend would be with them.

For a moment she had thought that she was seeing things; that her mind was replicating her fears as does a child's when their thoughts dwell on the monster that lives in their cupboard and at least _once_ they will swear to their disbelieving parents that they saw the monster's eyes flashing from the partially opened door.

So when she first saw the flash of pale skin that highlighted the faces of three small figures making their way down the castle steps she ignored it, her eyes sweeping the darkened forest instead. It was only when she turned back and the vision remained that she froze, her face turning white as she heard the howl of a wolf uncomfortably clear in the still night.

No matter how close she was to the entrance hall it felt like days before she reached the large oak doors and the cold air hit her face. Her legs ached as she sprinted down the steps towards the students. They were so small she thought that they couldn't have been more than first years.

Somehow through the tight bands that were constricting her chest she managed to shout out, running to close the short distance between them.

They turned around startled, looking guilty for being caught, unbeknownst to any danger upon them.

That changed quickly. Hermione was saved the task of explanation as the large form of a sleek wolf emerged from the shadows, stepping into the dim light offered by the moon.

All four students froze as the wolf scented the air, its gaze flickering between the smaller forms before its amber eyes connected with Hermione's.

The beast didn't move and neither did it's gaze, intensely focused on Hermione.

Taking any chance she was offered she yelled at the students, "NOW! Run back to the castle, now!"

Thankful that they didn't hesitate and she could hear their scrambled footfalls as they sprinted back towards the castle.

The wolf hadn't even blinked either not noticing (which she doubted) or not caring about its leaving prey.

She could see the form, so similar to Harry's patronous, that she knew to be James emerge a few meters behind the stilled wolf.

As soon as she had seen him, it changed. A shrinking shadow until she could see the clear outline of his James' human form.

The wolf's mood changed immediately, finally turning from Hermione it sunk closer to the ground growling viciously at James.

"JAMES, NO!" Hermione shouted terrified of the wolf's vicious turn.

James sent her a worried glance but seemed to understand as he quickly changed back into his stag form.

The wolf snarled slightly but was satisfied with the new scent, turning back once more to Hermione.

Confused at the change in disposition between James' presence and her own, Hermione decided to test the limit to the wolf's complacency.

Tentively she tried to take a step back, keeping her eyes on the wolf.

The wolf didn't seem to notice but it moved closer to her, a steady pace, seemingly absorbed in her scent as it sniffed the air between them.

Her heart pounded in her chest but somehow she knew it wouldn't have been wise to turn and run even though her muscles seemed to burn in protest wanting to do just that but being forced to remain still. She prayed that the first years had been smart enough to go and fetch a Professor.

Much too soon the wolf had reached her. It stopped just in front of her and Hermione wondered at its strange behavior, but before she had time to recall any possibly helpful information on werewolfs it had jumped. It pounced, a paw upon each of her shoulders sending her to the ground.

Luckily her knees buckled and the impact on her head was reduced, but she was more worried about the werewolf now positioned above her.

Her breath hitched as the werewolf moved over her, its head tracing an unknown path over her neck and down her shoulder.

She could hear its short intake of breaths as its whiskers brushed across her burning skin and realized that it was still sniffing.

Too scared to watch, to see the flash of deadly teeth before they would rip her skin, she stared into the sky above her willing the tears to stay away.

Her attention was drawn back as she felt the wolf place its head at the hem of her skirt. She squirmed uncomfortably but the wolf merely placed one paw on her hip, another on her leg steadying her body to its perusal.

It nudged her skirt over it's head as it nuzzled further under her skirt. She stiffened as she felt it's muzzle brush against her crotch but the wolf growled deeply, triumphantly, and then all she felt was the blinding pain, unbelievable pain, as it's sharp teeth penetrated the soft skin of her inner thigh.

She screeched into the night sky as pain rippled through her body. The wolf's paws held her lower body in place as her upper half arched backwards her head tilted up towards the shining orb that decorated the sky.

Tears streaked her face, flowing freely onto the grass below, as she stared at the moon waiting for the inevitable transformation that would now take place...

She stared into the sky for minutes on end. She could feel the teeth imbedded in her throbbing muscles. She could feel the blood dribbling down her thigh. But she couldn't feel her bones shifting. She didn't feel her skin changing. She didn't feel anything else but the pain in her leg and the pain in her chest, her heart beating erratically and much too fast than what she knew to be safe.

Slowly the wolf retracted his jaw's vice like grip on her leg, the exit hurting almost as much as the entry as his teeth pulled on her torn skin. She whimpered pitifully.

The wolf rose off of her body, taking a step back.

She watched it fearfully, now unable to move to save herself.

_Would it finish her off?_

Before she got an answer to her unspoken question the familiar black dog had appeared from somewhere to the right of her, knocking the wolf out of her vision.

Another was instantly at her side and she barely saw the wrestling forms of dog and wolf before she was swept up into James' arms and he was running them back towards the castle.

James struggles a little with the bundle in his arms and Hermione tries to wrap her arms around his neck to make it easier for him but finds that she can't. Barely able to swing her arms up to reach his shoulders she definitely can't hold on and she vaguely wonders how much blood she had lost.

James didn't stop running until he reached the Hospital Wing, kicking the door open with his foot and calling out to wake the Hospital Matron as he placed Hermione gently on an empty bed.

As he pulled away both students stare at the bright red arm that had been hooked beneath her legs, James' arm was so smothered in Hermione's blood it appeared as if he was wearing a shimmering red glove up to his elbow.

"Sirius?" she whispers.

"Don't worry about him, he'll be fine," James replies his voice shaking as he brushed a brown curl out of her face, a red trail left by the path of his fingertips.


	24. Chapter 24: In The Ward

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

For three days Hermione didn't wake. For three days she was fed bottle after bottle of potions (mostly of the blood replenishing variety). For three days Remus Lupin would talk to no-one. For three days he hated himself more than he had ever hated _anything _in this world, more than he hated Greyback, the werewolf to lay him with this curse, more than he hated the pain he endured every full moon. He hated himself. He hated himself for causing pain to the _one_ thing, the _one_ person, whom he loved more than _anything_ else in this world.

But she _did_ wake. Three unbearably long days later. She woke to darkness.

It was night time as her eyes fluttered open. Her throat stung of unpleasantness, a feeling of acid burning its way down to her stomach. She tried to move ,but stopped almost immediately after she started a stab of excruciating pain tearing through her right leg. She laid still in the darkness, as she tested her limits of movement. Eventually, she cautiously moved her upper half, keeping her leg as still as possible, she peeled off the hospital blanket.

Underneath, her gown had been rolled up to her waist and thick white bandages were wound around her right leg. Bright red lines stroked her left hip and flashes of memory flickered past her vision.

_Cold grass underneath her. A growling. The moon high above her. And pain. Pain. So much pain as the wolf attached its jaw tightly around her leg._

She whined at the memories, pushing them backwards, she looked at her leg. The bandages were wound thick and tight, which made her wonder, was she _still_ bleeding.

At least she was alive.

She hadn't thought she would be alive.

A tingle of a small bell caught her attention as the door from the matron's office was opened and Madame Pomfrey swept through.

"Miss Granger!" She shrieked in alarm. "Do NOT move that leg."

Hermione froze in guilt and slightly scared as she lay vulnerable in her bed to the stern witch.

The older witch moved around to the right side of her bed and clucked her tongue as she examined her bandages.

"Well it was about time for me to change them anyway. I guess I could do it now." She seemed to be talking to herself more than her patient.

"Here take this," she said handing Hermione a small purple vial. "It's a numbing potion, so you shouldn't feel a thing while I do this."

Hermione drank obediently and felt everything from her waist down seem to melt away from her body. Of course it was still there, she just couldn't feel it.

"You've been in my care for three days now Miss Granger," the mediwitch explained as she lifted Hermione's limp leg and started the arduous task of gently removing the layers of bandage.

"I was unsure when you would awaken to be quite honest. Your case is quite unique to my experience. We would have, of course, taken you to St Mungo's if your condition had degenerated, but unfortunately I doubt that they would have had much more insight. A person bitten by a werewolf usually transforms.

"You did know you were bitten by a werewolf didn't you?" the matron asked hesitantly in case she had just inadvertently revealed news of some shock to the girl, but Hermione nodded her head and she quickly turned back to her task.

"Anyhow, werewolf bites are ... unfortunately unable to be healed. I have done all I can to stop the bleeding, but your wounds were quite deep. Our hope is that they will eventually stop themselves. In any case they seem to be doing jut that. That scrape on your hip," she nodded her head to the angry red lines, "are coming along quite nicely. I think they will barely scar, if we are lucky. Ah - here we are"

She had reached the end of the long ravel of linen and Hermione could see the deep wounds of the bite mark on her leg.

They were quite close to the top of her leg and Madame Promfrey's hand swept over the top of her knickers as she examined the wounds, making it rather uncomfortable for Hermione.

"Yes, much better," the nurse nodded happily and Hermione thought she must be crazy. The wounds were many, far reaching into her flesh and blood trickled constantly out of the gapping holes. Her flesh was mangled and bloody and it pained Hermione just to look at it even through she knew she couldn't technically _feel_ it at the moment, thanks to the numbing potion.

_How bad had it been before?_

She shuddered at the thought, not daring to imagine a worse sight than the one before her (though she doubted she could anyway).

New bandages were conjured and a light ointment applied to the area before she started to wind the fresh material around her leg. Hermione was very grateful for the numbing potion, sure that without it, that lotion would have been unbearable on her open leg.

It was faster to put the bandages back on and she was soon finished. Although the wound was concentrated on the top half of her thigh the bandages wound themselves down to her knee and reached as high on her hip as they could go.

"I'm afraid you will be here for quite some time," the matron said gathering the few things that she had placed upon the bedside table during her work.

"Thankfully some of your friends have already taken upon themselves to gather your work," she gestured to a small pile of books and papers on the table that sat at the end of the bed. Hermione could see the neat writing of Lily's quill on a corner sticking out of the stack. "I haven't yet allowed visitors," the nurse frowned slightly, "but we will see how you are tomorrow, shall we?"

Hermione nodded obediently, but quickly stopped the nurse as she turned to leave her side.

"Was - was anyone else hurt?"

She looked around the empty hospital wing seeing no other signs of patients and her heart tightened painfully.

Empty beds did not mean no victims.

Madame Pomfrey smiled indulgently. "No, thanks to yourself."

"I imagine that three first years wouldn't have stood a chance against a near fully grown werewolf. You're quite the hero, actually."

"But I'm sorry to ramble, Mr Potter and Mr Black were quite fine, as I'm sure you were aiming your question towards. Mr Potter had to take a mild shock potion and Mr Black suffered a few bruises, but they were both out of here within the hour."

Hermione let out a deep breath sinking back into her pillows, relived, but not quite fully.

"Mr Lupin has... has had more difficulty."

"Oh no he wasn't hurt, per se," Madame Pomfrey assured at Hermione's startled look. "He is just taking your injuries very hard, but I'm sure he will be here tomorrow to see you once he hears you are awake." The nurse smiled and bustled out of the room, as was her way.

But she was wrong, as Hermione would sadly discover over the next lonely days spent in the quiet ward.

He didn't come at all.


	25. Chapter 25: What I've Done

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

"You don't understand James!"

"I understand that My has been sitting in that Hospital Wing for two weeks and _you've_ been a prick, moping all day, _I_ hardly even see you anymore. Where do you go anyway?"

"The Astronomy Tower," supplied Peter and proceeded to cower slightly at the glare Remus sent him.

"The Astronomy Tower? Surely you have better things to do then cry your heart out on the friggin' tower like some love sick twit of a girl?" Sirius shouted accusingly, disgust emulating towards at his friend.

"_Like going to see her_!" James yelled equally enraged.

However it wasn't enough to make Remus back down.

"Leave it! You don't know what I've done... what I've done to her..." he finished more weakly than he started.

"And how could _you_ know?" James shouted back. "You haven't even asked about her?"

"I overheard you talking," Remus mumbled at his shoes, slightly defensive. _He _had_ cared!_

_He had _wanted_ to see her..._

Sirius scoffed, "I don't know about you Prongs but I've had enough of this whelp."

Remus looked up scandaled. _Surely his friends wouldn't desert him! _

_Not that you deserve any better, _he reminded himself dejectedly.

"I'm with you Pads, let's do this."

Confused and distracted Remus didn't have any time to react before two wands were pointed directly at his chest.

"_V__olubilis saxum_"

Sirius smirked as he picked up the rock that marked the spot where his friend had been standing only moments before.

"Hope, you'll understand - we just thought it would be easier this way, you know?" Sirius talked to the rock as he turned it over in his hand. "And don't worry, we tested it out on a few first year Slytherins first, they turned out ... okay."

James laughed, "Don't frighten him. They were fine Remus." He directed this last to the rock.

"Are you coming Peter?" Sirius asked as he threw rock-Remus to James who caught him with a seeker's ease.

"Um... actually I think I might leave this one to you guys. Lily will probably be with My and I doubt she'll be happy with the whole 'rock' thing..." he stared nervously at his transfigured friend.

"Suit yourself," James shrugged and the two left the dormitory, rock in hand, to make their way to the hospital wing.

Peter was right and Lily was with Hermione when the boys arrived.

Hermione didn't see the new visitors straight away as she was bent over the bed organizing her things into a small bag; she had been cleared to leave the hospital wing that day and Lily was there to help her move her things.

Hermione was glad to finally be able to put on some normal clothes rather than having to wear the required hospital gown and had gladly accepted the white button up blouse and the flowing, green silk, knee-length skirt that Lily had brought down for her. Although her leg had stopped it's relentless bleeding it still required thick dressings and it would not only be incredibly painful but probably impossible for Hermione to wear jeans for some time.

She huffed as she attempted to push her hairbrush and slippers into the bulging bag and gave up on the strength of her small hands alone, pulling up her good leg to use her knee as an extra weight to make them fit.

It was the low whistle coming from Sirius Black that caused her to turn around and acknowledge her visitors.

"Nice legs kitten," Sirius smirked watching her amusedly as she straightened up, smoothing out her skirt, and settled a glare upon him.

"Sorry My, I knew I should have brought down the knee high tights too - but Emily said they would look 'dorky' and I -"

"Don't worry Lily, it's just Sirius, the skirt is _fine_," she sent another glare towards Sirius as he settled on the empty bed next to hers. "Besides I'm only going to be going from here to the dorms. From one bed to another almost."

"Never picked you as a bed-hopper My," James joined the mood of Sirius as he settled next to him on the bed, watching the rock in his hand as he threw it from one to the other.

"Arghh - did you just come down here to inform me it was 'arsehole day' or did you actually come to help me move?"

"_Actually_," Sirius softened his tone a little at her mood. "We didn't know that you were moving today, not that we aren't _thrilled_ to carry all those books you've accumulated -" he rolled his eyes at the large stack of heavy texts assembled next to her bed.

"_But_ we did bring you a present," James finished before Sirius' sarcasm could infuriate the little witches more so.

"A present?" she eyed them suspiciously, seeing no parcel in their hands.

"Mm-hm," confirmed Sirius as James threw the rock so it landed on the middle of her made bed.

"Umm... you bought me a rock?" She asked delicately as if they indeed consider a rock 'a present'.

"Not _exactly_ ..." started James.

"Although he can be as thick as one sometimes," added Sirius scowling at the rock cushioned by the dip of her bed covers.

"Just try a 'finite incantatem'," James suggested. "But I think we'll be going first..."

Sirius bent down to retrieve a hefty pile of books leaving the other half for James to take, which he did a moment later.

"Come on Lily," James called as they turned away from the bewildered girls and started to make their way from the ward.

"But - but - My?"

Hermione shrugged.

"Go on, I'm sure I'll be okay, whatever it is."

Lily looked unsure but picked up the last of Hermione's things - the small bag - and reluctantly followed the boys out of the ward.

"I'll wait for you in the common room," she confirmed before leaving Hermione alone with her 'present'.

"_Finite Incantatem_" Hermione whispered pointing her wand towards the rock with already a fair idea of what it was.

Her suspicions were confirmed as a rather rumpled Remus appeared on her bed.

Remus swore as he ran his hands over his form "bastards," he muttered and sure he was referring to his forced delivery she turned away, closing her eyes tight and hugging her arms to her form. The hospital wing suddenly seemed very cold.

"You can just leave, they won't know," Hermione said quietly but in the empty ward her voice seemed much louder.

Remus laughed abstractedly "Do you really think they would have just left us here?"

And sure enough his words were proven as they heard the sound of Lily's voice form just outside the door.

"YOU DID _WHAT_?"

Hermione stifled a laugh as she imagined the scene obscured to her eyes by the hospital doors.

Her amusement disappeared as she felt warm hands touch her shoulders tentively.

"My?" He sighed when she didn't answer.

She contemplated running away but she doubted she would make it very far with her damaged leg, so she just stayed still, hoping he would leave instead.

To her dismay, and secret joy, he didn't.

His hands left her shoulders and she heard him sit heavily on the end of her bed.

"I'm just so sorry..." he whispered. His words were muffled and she imagined he had covered his face with his hands.

"Sorry that you are here or -" she hissed venomously, still facing away from him, arms crossed against her chest.

"Don't be ridiculous," he dismissed her accusations. "I love you My...I just -"

"You're what?" she spun her heal allowing him to see the unadulterated anger and hurt burning in her eyes. "You were too busy perhaps?" she mocked. "Too -"

"Ashamed. Guilty! Absolutely PETRIFIED!" He yelled louder than her, standing from the bed and advancing on her.

But his anger dissipated as he reached her, gentle arms reaching to cup her face tenderly. "I could have lost you," he whispered fiercely. "I could have killed you."

"It wasn't _you_ Remus -"

"No!" He dropped his hands from her face and closed his eyes in obvious attempt to hide his anger. "You have to understand - this_ was_ me! This is who I am. I am the only one responsible for what I do, and I _am_ responsible for all I do, in this form and the other ..." His eyes opened and she was surprised to see them shimmering with unshed tears. "I would have died if I'd lost you," he whispered.

"Remus -" Hermione's voice broke down as she threw herself at Remus' chest. He wrapped her tightly in his arms and breathed in her sweet smell, her dark brown curls tickling his nose.

Hermione knew she should still be mad but the longer he held her the fainter the concept became to her.

Eventually, reluctantly, they pulled away. Remus exchanged their embrace for holding her hands and he led her to sit on the edge of the bed with him. He didn't say anything, but then again neither did she, and they seemed content with their unspoken questions by the answers given in the other's eyes.

Remus was the one to break the moment, sighing he asked, "Can I see it?"

Hermione nodded and used her hands to scoot further back on the bed. She spread out her legs to rest either side of Remus and blushed prettily as he moved his hands gently up her claves.

He pushed her skirt up her legs as he gently caressed her skin, revealing her milky skin inch by inch.

He smiled at her deepening breaths but the smile was short lived as his roaming hands felt the edge of her bandages, just above her knee.

He gently eased her skirt up to reveal the full extent of her bandages and his breath caught as his gaze locked transfixed to the extra layers that wound around her thigh.

"Oh Merlin," he breathed heavily. "And you didn't turn?" he asked turning worried eyes upon her confused ones.

"No," she affirmed cautiously, his expression had almost seemed pleaded for another answer.

"Maybe it would have been better if you had," he muttered softly, but Hermione still heard it.

"What do you mean?" she asked slightly hurt by his words.

He sighed and ran a hand through his messed hair. Hermione thought he looked so much more worn, so much more like the Professor she had met four years ago, and she couldn't help but feel responsible for it.

"I was hoping it was just a scratch," he ran his eyes over the length of her bandaged leg. "But it's not, is it? It's not just a scratch?"

She shook her head when he looked to her for an answer.

"Did Madame Pomfrey know why you didn't turn?"

"No," Hermione supplied. "She said that she didn't know of any cases like mine ... she said she didn't know why."

"And she seemed certain?" he looked a little disbelieving.

"Yes."

"Well I guess she could be a really good actor, or maybe she really didn't know ... not many people would I imagine."

"What is it Remus?" Hermione demanded in a tightening tone. "You're starting to scare me."

"I'm sorry," he smiled moving up the bed to sit closer to her and reaching out to brush a curl out of her face.

"There's only two reasons a wolf bites, Hermione. To kill ... those that actually survive are lucky," he laughed bitterly. "That is, if you can call this curse preferable to death."

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she took his hand, squeezing it firmly within the palm of her own.

"Sorry," he continued. "You know I didn't mean it really... I just ... anyway, the only other reason is to ... to - to mark their mate."

He wasn't looking at her anymore and she guessed, rather correctly, that he couldn't bear too.

She brought her hand out to cup his face and turned his head to face her even though his eyes remained downcast.

"And you think that this is what you did to me?" she asked gently.

"There's no other reason why you wouldn't have turned," he explained practically. If it had been just a scratch ... then maybe not. But it's not a scratch."

"It's the saliva that actually turns the person. If it touches an open wound the curse can enter your system. A werewolf choosing a mate will hold back it's saliva when it marks them. It's a conscious effort and ... it's the only explanation."

"If you have ... what does it mean?" Hermione absorbed Remus reasoning and wanted to understand more fully, this was not what they taught in books.

"For a werewolf ... I guess the most analogous description would be that of marriage. I - I already love you and want you," Hermione smiled at the way he described these things, as they were facts. She pulled his head closer to her chest as he continued the explanation, his breath warm against her breasts.

"But werewolves are possessive, obsessive, I will _crave_ you. I won't want for anyone else. And you ... you won't be able to have anyone else."

He pushed himself closer to her trying to absorb her, or make himself disappear into her.

She didn't press him on his words, sensing his guilt, and resigned herself to ask more on it later.

"I've claimed you as mine but you don't _have_ to be with me forever," he continued. "You still have a choice, I would _never_ take that away from you, and in a way I still have mine ... but I would never choose anyone else anyway."

She pulled him up so she could see the sea blue of his eyes, "Forever is an awfully long time, Remus. But is it really so hard to contemplate that I wouldn't choose anyone else either?"

Remus kissed her head and pulled himself from the bed. "You are young - we are both young. We will see."

"I don't blame you," she stated in a very matter-of-fact way that made him smile.

"I love you," he kissed her again as he bent down to pick her up.

"I know," she whispered back as he lifted her up and proceeded to carry her from the hospital wing.


	26. Chapter 26: Give Me Your Knickers

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Hermione was able to brave the walk in between classes by the end of the next week. Luckily there wasn't that much homework to catch up on, the teachers being lenient on her, and she was able to skip the catch up readings, having already a firm grasp on the sixth year curriculum.

Remus had completely reversed his behavior of the first few weeks since the full moon. His was extremely reluctant to leave her side so much so that it was almost an argument every time Hermione had to go to the bathroom.

"But what if you slip and fall?" He would argue persistently.

"Then you will hear the bang accompanied by my cry of help. At such time you have my full permission to rush in, wand blazing and a brigade of teachers at your heels."

Remus would huff at her making light of the situation. "At least let me come in and help you remove your skirt."

As embarrassing as it was to admit, even to herself, sometimes it would indeed come to Hermione making this concession so that she was able to use the toilet.

At one point she had tried to hold out on bathroom visits until he had tucked her into bed at night, rushing out of the room as soon as he had left to relieve herself. Unfortunately he had discovered this tactic on only her second attempt and had not been too pleased about her deception.

The worst bit about her new disablement, however, was not his persistence in removing her underwear but his diligent restraint from doing anything else once said garment was removed. Even when he bathed her - oh yes he bathed her too! - his hands would not linger on her breasts, moving as softly and gently with the sponge over them as he did with her elbows.

Not even studying for the approaching exams, usually an effective distraction for her active mind, could dampen her increasing frustration after close to two weeks of this treatment.

"Remus!" she whined as she stood naked in the middle of the prefect bathroom, her hair dripping wet as he toweled her dry.

He ignored her whimpers as he moved the towel from one leg to the other sweeping soft circles over her skin. This behavior of hers was nothing knew to him.

Kneeling before her, she couldn't help but think how close he was to her heated centre and she closed her eyes as she imagined him closing the small gap, his tongue flicking out to...

She groaned out loud.

"This is Ridiculous!" she moaned.

Before he could even comprehend what was happening she had pushed him backwards so that he was lying with his back to the cool tiles of the floor.

She moved over him, her left knee pressing on his stomach and her small hands pushing down his shoulders as she twisted her injured thigh so it was lifted slightly away from them and the scars were visible to him.

His eyes immediately attached to the vivid red marks. Her skin was such perfect porcelain in between each angry wound that they looked almost unreal. He found himself unable to look away but she didn't seem to mind.

"Yes," she purred in his ear. "Look at them."

He turned slightly hurt eyes to meet hers.

"No. I don't mind them." She continued, "But I would like them a lot better if I got the benefits I'm entitled to get with them."

His eyes hardened as he caught on to her train of thought.

"No." He stated firmly.

"Why not Remus?" The childish whine was returning to her voice but her arms remained locked firm onto his shoulders. "I don't understand. You said you're meant to _crave_ me!"

She breathed heavily as she looked down upon him.

"I certainly crave _you_."

"Enough Hermione," he tried to push her gently off of him, too scared to use actual force in case she would fall onto her leg. "It isn't ridiculous, it's common sense. You're in constant pain. You hide it around me - I know you do," he cut her off when she looked ready to rebuke. "I've seen you as you wake up, before I come into your dorm room. I'm surprised you sleep at all in that kind of pain, let alone are able to walk between your classes."

Hermione remembered when he had insisted that he carry her around the castle. Although appreciative of his thoughtfulness she out right refused to be carried around like a rag doll for the rest of her life. Another argument had ensued and Hermione really didn't want to revisit _that_ again. But it didn't matter, because he was wrong and she told him just that.

"I'm not _wrong_ - I've _seen_ it!"

"Yes, you have - but only it's not what you think."

Remus' eyes narrowed ready to doubt and excuse she was ready to spew.

"I _am_ in pain," she conceded. "_But_ it really only hurts at night. Now, I know you don't believe me, but I've been thinking about it for a while and I think I've solved it."

Remus was obviously suspicious of Hermione's story but remained silent thus allowing her to continue.

"Well, it's _you_ really. When you - when you touch me - I mean just holding my hand, or even standing close to me - the pain, well it just ... it's hard to describe but it seems to 'melt' away I guess.

"When you sit away from me during class, it comes back a little, not really painful but uncomfortable. And it makes sense that it's worse at night because that's the only time you're not with me.

"Right now," she spread her fingers out on his shoulders to emphasize her point. "I wouldn't even be able to tell you which leg it is. It doesn't hurt at all."

"You're being honest?" Remus skepticism was visibly disappearing,

"Of course I am. I've never lied to you."

"Good."

And before she could give voice to any other argument he was gone from underneath her, flipping them over and rolling her over so that she was resting on her hands and knees as he leaned over her back.

She barely registered his hot organ pressing against her flushed skin (_Where had he been hiding _that _She certainly hadn't felt that in the bath tub_) before he had pulled back and with a brutal thrust sanctioned himself inside her quivering body.

She was already wet and ready for him, his attentions in the bathtub provoking her body into needy arousal.

He didn't stop to wait for her to adjust and she didn't complain. His thrusts were forceful and unrelenting and she was soon pushed to the very edge of oblivion. Her body trembled around his as he continued his assault to her willing flesh. He outlasted her orgasm and to her astonishment it wasn't long after until the building sensation started again in her own body.

"Remus!" she pleaded. His hands were holding her firmly to his body. One hand wrapped around her waist and the other cupping her breast. His hold was not gentle but secure. The hand around her breast squeezed tightly, almost painfully as he buried his head into her neck.

His breath was hot and heavy against her skin. Their bodies pulled flush against each other but for the pounding of their lower halves. Every time he pushed forwards she could feel the front of his thighs hitting the back of hers and occasionally the slap of his balls would reach to tickle her flesh.

"Remus!" she screamed louder this time.

His teeth responded to her call, brushing lightly over the skin of her shoulder. For a moment she was sure he would sink them into her there but before she had finished the thought he had pulled back, his head rearing back as his fingers tightened over her breast and releasing his seed into her womb.

Her thighs trembled as she was thrown over once again by the warm liquid hitting her inner walls.

"Thank - Thank you," Remus' breath was hard and showing exhaustion as he lowered her gently onto her towel before letting himself fall inelegantly to the ground next to her.

"Thank _you_ sir," Hermione teased.

"Are you alright?" he asked, turning his head to face her with some effort.

"More than," she smiled back.

"But if your still up to that carrying thing. I wouldn't be so adverse right now."

He laughed. The sound was pure pleasure to her ears.

"Maybe in a minute."

She shuffled over closer to him wrapping her body around his side, her leg hooked over his.

"Take your time, I'm not going anywhere."


	27. Chapter 27: Tap Those Red Heels Together

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Hermione finished her exams one day before Remus. So why he was locked within the Great Hall she took advantage of the sun filled lawns of the Hogwarts grounds and found a spot by the lake, secluded from the view of those but who chose to peer around the great willow tree. Severus sat with her as she dipped her bare feet into the edge of the cool lake.

If you asked her what they had been talking about after the fact she would not have been able to tell you. They were just talking, about nothing and everything at the same time.

The sun was fully settled in a high arc by the time a shadow passed over them signaling Remus' appearance from behind their shielding willow. With only the smallest of scowls Severus left them behind, Remus taking his spot beside their witch.

It wasn't long before he had moved closer. He took off his shoes as his toes joined hers in the small lapping of the waters edge.

She leaned against his chest as his hands cradled her, absently tracing smooth circles over her stomach as he recounted his last exam to her.

"What are you doing for the holidays?" he asked after the subject of exams was thoroughly exhausted.

Hermione frowned slightly, although he couldn't see it. The causal tone in which the question was asked did nothing to distract from the looming doom of the 'holidays'. Never before in her life had she hated the concept of 'holidays' as much as she currently did, which was saying something for Hermione Granger, school-and-book-lover-extraordinaire.

The truth was Dumbledore had invited her to accompany him to London for the summer. Her 'parents' that resided in Oxford had invited her, along with the Headmaster, to their manor for the beginning of the summer. Dumbledore had expressed exuberant interest in visiting the many Muggle landsites he had not yet explored.

Hermione had graciously accepted the invitation half on the knowledge that it would help with her 'cover' and half on her reluctance to spend her entire holidays in the castle as was her other option - to stay at Hogwarts.

Surprisingly Remus was happy with the idea of Hermione being so close to London. He explained that he had already been invited to the Potters' for the second week of the break and that they were sure to be frequenting Diagon Alley.

So with Dumbledore's acquiesce Hermione made plans with Remus to meet and it was only with the damper of a maximum two weeks apart that they sat the too-quick train ride back to Kings-Cross Station.

Hermione was surprised that Dumbledore had wanted to catch the Hogwarts Express to London and was sure he was doing so only for her benefit. It was only when he boarded the train and actually _skipped_ off towards the driving cart so that he could 'witness the fun first hand' that she doubted this reasoning.

The train station was no place for a romantic goodbye but between the hurried bustling of the rejoined parents and students Remus and Hermione managed a small impassioned kiss that would leave their lips tingling with the loss of their partner for hours to come.

Dumbledore appeared at her side as the crowds parted to reveal an equally as old looking man searching for Remus.

"Two weeks!" she reminded him unnecessarily.

"Two weeks," he affirmed with no small measure of reluctance as he allowed the increasing distance between them to draw their interlocked fingers apart.

Hermione felt as if a very part of her was being taken away and although she knew that she would get it back (_two weeks - only two weeks) _she could not placate her protesting heart as if it really was being split, Remus taking his share and denying her rest until it was returned and him by her side, the way it should be.

oOo

Odette and Philippe were really some of the nicest people Hermione had ever met. It was clear right from her polite and quirky persona down to the spangled robes that she wore that Odette was Dumbledore's relative, although she looked to young to be his daughter. If she had hazarded a guess she would have though Odette to be around forty. Philippe was a little older and, as she learnt, worked in the muggle world. His straight navy suit and thin tie worked a brilliant contrast with Odette's choice of robes (one unusual set of bright purple with inlaid golden bells that jingled as she walked). As she learnt, Philippe had been born to a half-blood mother whom thoroughly embraced her muggle heritage. Attending a muggle school until his magical education, he had chosen to return to work within the non-magical side of life, restricting his magic to his home life and 'sometimes to refill my coffee if Gen is out of the office' he would joke.

The first week Hermione spent at the manor was thoroughly filled with exploration of their magnificent home and grounds, followed by her overjoyed discovery of their library.

Odette didn't work during the summer and so spent her time with Hermione, teaching her some of the household magical charms that Hermione had seen so many times performed by Mrs Weasley but never had been specifically taught due to her own muggle-style home life. She was thrilled to discover that they the couple did not keep a house-elf, due to Odette's complete abhorrence of the elf's treatment by the magical community and went on to account her idea of S.P.E.W. to which Odette was thoroughly impressed by.

Dumbledore would accompany Philippe to the office during the days Hermione spent with Odette and after their first day apart they met at dinner, Hermione displaying the soufflé she had made all by herself (and magic) with helpful the instruction of Odette and Dumbledore with the stapler he had obtained form Philippe's desk. 'No wonder he is such good friends with Arthur,' Hermione thought as she couldn't help but laugh at his amazement with the simple piece of stationary.

Her days were so filled at first that it wasn't until she was banished to her room for sleep, 'No more books, young lady, off to bed' Odette would scold at around quarter to midnight, that the acute loneliness and ache would grasp her heart and hold her breath as she would long for Remus to hold her whilst she slept.

The result was so detrimental to her sleep that she would feel physically sick as she woke in the mornings.

The days wore on in no increasing kindness, if anything Hermione's condition was worsening.

By the weekend it was too much for Hermione to leave the house.

The quartet had planned an outing for Philippe and Dumbledore's relief from the office and had planned a day's trip to the country. Hermione had helped Odette herself with the preparation of a picnic basket full of wonderful food only the day previous and in her sorrow for ruining their day urged them to go on without her, deterring their offerings of doting and chicken-soup-fetching with lies of a 'it's only a stomach bug' that fitted with her nausea that morning.

Odette would not hear of leaving her alone but instead urged the men to take their fishing gear instead and head out to the place they had planned.

"If Hermione feels better later we will apparate over with the picnic," Odette assured the men.

Dumbledore and Philippe left with little more coercion, only too eager to 'enjoy a spot of fishing'. Hermione would have laughed at their phrasing if she was not fearful that the remaining of contents of her stomach might bubble up with it.

"Come on," Odette directed. "I think I mug of green tea is in order."

Ten minutes later Odette and Hermione sat at the kitchen bench with each a cup of steaming tea in front of them. Hermione wrapped her hands around the warm porcelain and inhaled the fresh scent of the leaves as her headache gently receded to almost non-existence.

"Thankyou," she smiled at the young, female version of Dumbledore across from her.

"You're welcome, my dear," Odette returned bringing her cup up to her lips to take a sip from her own.

"Does Albus know?" Odette inquired almost absently as she returned her cup to the bench, running her finger over the rim.

"Know?" Hermione wondered if she had missed a part of their conversation, drifting off like the swirls of steam that traced through the air above her teacup.

"About the baby?" Odette prompted to a still confused looking Hermione.

"You are pregnant... aren't you?" Odette clarified when comprehension still escaped the younger witch.

"Pr-Pregnant?" Hermione spluttered through her tea.

"Oh - sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. It's just - well you have been looking a little peaky each morning... I just assumed you knew."

It took a moment for Hermione to realize that Odette was not apologizing for her assumption of Hermione's 'pregnancy' but rather the unknowing distribution of the fact.

"I'm sorry, but you're mistaken. I can't possibly be pregnant." Hermione replied confidently.

"Are you sure," Odette replied raising an eyebrow suggestively that made Hermione blush.

"Well - well not like _that_ I mean. But -" Hermione flustered over her words. "Everyone knows that it's impossible to get pregnant at Hogwarts. The contraceptive wards even stretch onto the grounds, it would absolutely _impossible_ to -"

"Contraceptive wards?" Odette interrupted.

"Yes, it's all in _Hogwarts a History_, in the section that talks about the security wards. It says, quite explicitly that the contraceptive wards cover the entire castle inlaid into the very protection spells that the castle is so famous for. It was actually quite a controversial event and almost didn't happen after one of the board members had a spit about it, I believe it was ..." _Lucius Malfoy_.

_Oh shit._

"Well I don't know about all of that," Odette considered Hermione's words, "but I've never heard of _contraceptive wards_ before. Quite an ingenious concept nonetheless but ..."

Odette's voice trailed off and Hermione couldn't tell whether it was because she had stopped talking or if it was due to the deafening pounding in that now occupied her ears.

_Lucius Malfoy. Appointed school governor in _1979.

The year was 1976.

_Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit...fuck._

"If - If I _was_ pregnant? Um... how could we check?" Hermione's eyes darted around the room as if she was only missing something that she couldn't see and if she could find it then it would all just fall in to place, and everything would be right again ... she couldn't be pregnant. Surely!

"There are spells that will tell you, but I'm afraid I don't make much of a mediwitch. Muggle devices work just fine though. Should we walk to the pharmacy?"

Three hours, five bottles of water and 18 pregnancy tests later Odette and Hermione sat in the middle of the bathroom as 18 little plastic strips shone their pink panels around the room.

"The father?" Odette asked the silent room, as the pair considered the plastic strips, one of them in particular trying to stare them down, make those strips change their minds.

Hermione smiled. Her first real post-baby realization smile. "I love him," she sighed.

"Albus will help, if that's what you're worried about?" Odette turned to face Hermione; she knew the strips weren't going to change their minds. "You can still finish school. It's happened before."

"Mm," Hermione agreed non-committaly. "I think ... I think I need to speak to the father first. I mean - of course I'll tell Albus and I - well I hope I'll be able to continue with school... I just really need to see Remus first. Do you think you could not tell him till then?"

"Of course," Odette agreed. "As long as you're going to see this Remus soon, I hope?"

Hermione bit her lower lip, chewing it between her teeth.

"We agreed to meet in a week from now - but now ... I don't think I can wait that long! Could I perhaps borrow your owl?"

"Of course you may. I'll go fetch Felix now."

Odette got up from the floor, her robes jingling as she did so and left the younger of the two to watch the little pink strips.

_I'm pregnant._

_I'm pregnant._

_I'm pregnant!_

Hermione beamed. She didn't want to think of school or how this could affect her in any negative way, all she could possibly consider in that moment was the small life she carried within her. Remus'. Her's. A _baby_.

She was pregnant to the man she loved. The man she loved and whom loved her back. She really was starting her own life, her own family ... She was pregnant and she couldn't wait to tell him.

oOo

It had been two days since she had found out. Just two days and every single moment was pure bliss and pure agony at the same time as she waited upon Remus' reply to her 'urgent need to meet'. He had agreed to meet her the day following his letter's return which brought her now to Diagon Alley.

They agreed to meet at nine, thinking the Alley would be a little less busy at such an early time and hence make it easier to find each other. They had obviously misjudged the popular shopping location as the street was swamped with people even in the early hour of the day.

Hermione waited, dressed in a sleeveless white sundress holding the adorning silver bag , outside of the Quidditch supply shop as she tried to peer over the heads of the moving crowd.

Her fingers tingled uncomfortably and so she switched her bag to her other hand as she continued her impatient search.

Her fingers still complained of an invisible force but she ignored it as she finally spotted a muddy black dog weaving between people's legs and dirtying the hems of their robes.

Excitement rushed through her as her gaze swept past the dog searching for those familiar deep blue eyes.

The dog spotted her first and gave a large bark, head pointed in her direction. It had the desired effect as the sandy blond head of Remus Lupin turned to see the dog's find.

It was an indistinguishable moment when their eyes connected that Hermione also felt an impossibly harsh grip take her wrist and she was wrenched painfully forward as the world spun around her.

When she opened her eyes next it was not to see within the own dark oceans of her mate's but the pale blue hues that accompanied a very familiar red hair ... and a room that she had left, all too long ago.


	28. Chapter 28: Don't Touch The Apples

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

"Ginny, how long has she been like this?"

"I dunno. Maybe 10 minutes?"

"Oh, Merlin."

Hermione could hear the voices swim somewhere above her. She didn't dare try to move, a throbbing pain encompassing her entire body, even so, through the ache she could feel the acute pain that shot through her arm from her fingers. It was like each and every one had been bent back and snapped.

"Fre..orge?" she changed mind half way on the identity of the twin standing above her.

"'Mione?" another voice called, making the identity of the Weasley redundant as both twins now appeared kneeling at her side.

"We are so, so sorry baby," one of them soothed as he reached out a hand to brush against her cheek.

"George." The other interrupted. "Ten minutes! She was gone for months."

"What are you talking about?" the voice of Ginny Weasley joined the conversation, although Hermione couldn't tell where she was standing from her position on the floor. "What do you mean '_gone_', I was here the entire time, apart from when I went to get _you_ and she never moved. What's going on?"

"Ginny, shut up. You're being as obnoxious as Ron." George scolded his sister as he turned back to a confused and pained Hermione.

She heard Ginny leave the room in huff, but she paid no attention to it.

"I didn't - I didn't leave?"

Hermione moved her head enough to look down at herself. Her white sundress was gone and she was dressed in the pink underwear she had been wearing for the wedding... _the wedding!_

Hermione's breath hitched in her chest as she managed to ask the question she so feared.

"What day is it?" She looked to Fred, pleading through her eyes for things he knew not of.

"It's September 1st 'Mione. It's Remus and Tonks' wedding. It's about ten am and ..." he stopped as the tears started rolling down her pale cheeks.

George moved over to help her sit up against the wall behind her. She clung on to his neck as he moved her. "Did any of it actually happen?" she whispered in his ear as he let her go. Her voice was broken by her quiet sobs but Fred must have heard her question too for it was he who answered.

"Yes, it did. Although it would have appeared to Gin that you hadn't left. You were still here, but you were kind of ... 'fuzzy' around the edges, I guess is the best way to describe it. It was an experimental product," he sighed in obvious guilt. "There were only two of them, we were trying to make a time-travel device that would go back in lots of days rather than hours, like the time-turners would take you."

"It didn't work though," George continued.

_Obviously._ The word hovered in the air between them.

"George tried it out."

"I ended up living in the basement of this house for a month! And if you think Kreacher is a menace now, try sharing a bed with him... little rodent."

"But George only went back a year. And he was only in contact with the device for at most a minuet. I was there to pull him back."

"But it happened though?" Hermione seemed to have trouble absorbing all the information. _It was their wedding still ...Had _nothing_ changed?_

"Fred." Her head snapped to meet his, finding it closer than she had expected.

"Where's Sirius?" Her eyes locked to his, begging ... pleading.

"Oh 'Mione," he groaned, "how far did you go back?" His hand reached to wipe away the tear that was trailing a lone path down her cheek but she pushed his hand away.

"No." she stated with such a firm resolve that his heart felt torn in two by her pain.

"Tell me. Where. He. Is." She wouldn't believe it until he told her.

"'Mione ... you know where he is." George answered when Fred couldn't seem to speak to her broken eyes.

And she couldn't breathe. She barely registered being wrapped up in someone's arms as her body slumped over theirs. She could see her tears falling over her cheeks and onto the back of the person holding her. Her hands hung limply by her sides and somehow through her tears she could see the purple swollen fingers of her right hand that had obviously been wrapped around the device that had sent her back and had to have been prized from it for her return.

"Send... Send me back," she managed between the giant sobs that wracked her body.

The hands that held her tightened.

"I'm sorry, but we can't."

"Just give me the orb!" She shouted back trying to push them away from her.

Fred let her go, Geroge backing away also as she tried to pull herself up.

"It won't work 'Mione."

She shook her head, trying to ignore their words as she stumbled to straighten herself to standing.

"Baby, listen to us."

"Shut up!" she yelled angrily, but knowing at the same time that she wasn't really angry at them.

No. She was angry at herself.

For Sirius. Severus. James ... Lily.

_Remus_.

Her legs gave out as her as her body shook again, the sobs overwhelming any mental or physical strength she had left.

"I'm sorry." She apologized to the Weasley that had caught her.

An orb was pushed under her vision.

"Were not lying 'Mione. It won't work."

She knew that they were right. The orb no longer glowed green but was brown and almost shriveled making her think of an apple that had gone bad.

She pushed away the orb and the hand that held it. "I know your not. I'm sorry ... I just ..."

"We know," George soothed as he patted her hair.

And she knew, even in her broken state, that they didn't really _know_. But she accepted their comfort nonetheless, letting them hold her while she cried.

oOo

"Are you sure you don't want to tell us about it?" George asked again as he wrapped the bandage around her leg.

She shook her head as her hands gripped the bench top.

George finished wrapping her leg, giving the bandage a wary look, wondering, as she knew, why he hadn't been able to heel the cuts with his wand.

"I've got the dress," Fred announced as he entered the room, the pink gown in his hand.

George helped her stand and she allowed them to dress her, moving her arms and legs as they asked.

"There!" Fred announced as the sound of the zipper gave the finality to their assault.

Fred turned a confused eye to the small ribbon-made bow held in George's hand.

"Meh, didn't need that anyway," he shrugged throwing the offending item over his shoulder.

"Well I hope not!" Hermione giggled as they turned two mischievous grins to face her.

Her smile was short lived but Fred seemed encouraged by it.

"Come on, Shortie, Mum will have the Aurors on us if you aren't down in the kitchen in - oh" he examined his wrist-watch, "two minutes ago."

Hermione turned to her bedside table and picked up her wand - feeling the wand warm her palm in recognition of a long lost friend.

"Hello to you too," she spoke quietly as she slipped the wand into her dress pocket thanking at the same time the wizarding world for giving dresses such things.

She stopped at the doorway as the flicker of her reflection passing a mirror caught her attention.

'What am I doing?' she asked herself.

Could she really bare to walk down an aisle towards the man she loved, the father of her child (her hands wrapped around her stomach, it's flatness reflected in the mirror), only to turn away as she reached the alter allowing another to take his hand?

_He obviously could_.

And so she took a deep breath, feeling for the first time the inadequacy of such an action, before she gingerly made her way down the stairs following Fred and George into the kitchen.


	29. Chapter 29: The Trouble With Weddings

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

It was like she had just woken up. Like she had just woken up like any other day before. No one ran to welcome her back with tight hugs or tears of joy. Ron said "Morning," at least that's what she thought he said through his mouth of bacon and toast, and Harry didn't even say anything.

She felt detached from herself as she was pushed and pulled around the small kitchen, her hair twisted into something acceptable (although that really wasn't necessary anymore). In fact the only attention that she pulled was from her newly contained curls, however unlike the praise she had first received this was more along the lines of "Why didn't you do this yesterday?" accompanied by the accusing glare of Molly Weasley who thought the hair an act of treason against the importance of her eldest son's wedding.

Finally released from the clutches of the crimson nailed hairdresser and granted 'ready' but for the absence of her bouquet she was grateful for the escape Harry provided when he asked if she wanted to help them carry the breakfast back to the Burrow. She knew as a bridesmaid she should have stayed to attend to Tonks but she reasoned that her absence wouldn't be noted from the demanding attention of Mrs Weasley and Tonks' mother Andromeda that currently commanded the entourage that swamped the Black house.

Harry handed her a basket of croissants and a jug of juice to hold as they apparrated from the front steps of Grimmauld Place into the backyard of the Weasley home.

The wedding was to take place at the Burrow, making use of the set up that remained from Bill and Fleur's wedding the previous day. The men had stayed at the Burrow that night and the women not, as was the tradition of separation for the day before the wedding.

Apparently Mr Weasley or his sons had not picked up any of the cooking skills Mrs Weasley exuded and hence the youngest had been sent to scavenger the breakfast that they reasoned the women were unlikely to eat anyway in their last minute paranoia to fit into their dresses.

They boys softened their voices as they approached the backdoor.

"What are we being quiet for?" Hermione whispered as she placed her load onto the bench that stood in the middle of the Burrow's kitchen.

"Remus is still asleep. Passed out on the couch," Ron sniggered pointing towards the door to the living room. "Most of everyone else is awake upstairs but we all figured we would let him sleep it off as much as he could, considering how much he had to drink last night."

"Oh," she said her eyes glued to the closed door.

"Well, ah me and Ron have to go get dressed. Do you think you could set up breakfast for us?"

"Um, sure, yeah," she replied not at all listening to what Harry was saying.

"Unless you want to come help me - OW watch it Harry!"

"Shhh don't wake Remus," Harry replied as Ron rubbed his arm where Harry had elbowed him.

It wasn't until she heard the bang of a door closing above her that she realized they had gone.

Without hesitation she strolled quickly to the living room door, turning the knob before her mind could convince her otherwise.

And there he was.

Sprawled out adorably on the couch like a ragdoll that had been abandoned by a child. Standing in the doorway she could see his chest move steadily up and down. His face was almost obscured, his cheek pressed into the couch cushion and his hair falling onto the exposed half.

She had wondered, even perhaps hoped, that seeing this older version, the Professor that she had known, would separate the two in her mind and would make this day easier, but she had known before she had seen him this a false hope because even in her mind the Remus she had grown to love had always been the same Professor. They were one, inseparable person, she adored the Remus in the past not only because of her time spent with him there but for the caring and admirable person she had knew he would become.

And so as she gazed upon the sleeping form of her Professor, her Remus, the selfish part of her would not regress, it would not accept without admission that he did not love her anymore. That he did not care for her. For she found it entirely incomprehensible that the love that she held for him would ever disappear.

She stepped into the room closing the door soundly behind her, and without removing her eyes once from the slumbering man before her she moved to meet him, kneeling down beside his head.

She brushed his hair from his face taking a moment to absorb him once more, uninterrupted, in case this would be her last opportunity to do so.

He had more scars, she noticed. Her fingers moved without conscious thought to trace the new lines that ran the length of his cheek.

There was no denying he had aged, the grey hairs that streaked his sandy mane adding emphasis to the fact. Hermione had never been a very vain person but she was surprised by the affection to which she found herself holding these attributes. No one else might see him as the teenage 'god' she had once found herself admitting to see him as, but perhaps tainted by her heart's hold on the man, she still thought him the most handsome man she had ever met.

Like the fingers that had traced his scars only moments before she found her lips following that unconscious path, lowering to meet his.

He shifted in his sleep as her lips touched his.

"Tonks?" he muttered, eyes still closed he did not see the pain a simple sleep induced word afflicted to the young woman kneeling before him.

Her selfish side had got it's answer and unable to cause more pain unto herself she rose and quickly fled the room.

oOo

There were only two bridesmaids.

Harry and Kingsley stood beside Remus.

From the end of the aisle she could see just how Harry could often be compared as a replica of James, but she knew up close they were a lot different.

She focused on him as she made her way down the rows of people.

She was thankful that Ginny walked in front, obscuring their view of the altar and of the man she knew would be standing before it.

There was barely five meters remaining when Ginny parted her path to the left and left Hermione walking straight ahead.

Somehow she avoided his eyes. Locking her gaze to the front of his robes and trying not to assess just how good he looked in his tailored ensemble.

It would be easier if she did not see him. She could imagine it was someone else and perhaps try to look happy for her friends wedding day rather than the somber funeral march that the walk down the aisle had seemed.

This tactic might have worked if were not for his voice.

She shook, most likely visibly, as they exchanged vows, she was only grateful that his were not long winded and full of heart felt sentiments. Just the required.

Tonks' were somewhat longer, a more impassioned promise of love than his. But reflecting on it later she might have imagined it, her jealous heart vindicating the witch and absolving her wizard.

She stood, with minimal swaying as her heart was broken apart by the words spoken just an arms length away from her.

But it was not until the end of the ceremony that the physical pain struck her. As the sermon ended and the married couple sealed their union with the physical display of affection, the dreaded kiss, Hermione's leg trembled with unexpected outrage. Her mouth shut tight to contain the scream as she felt the deep wounds split open and the trickle of blood run down her thigh before it was absorbed by the surrounding bandage.

No one noticed as the bridesmaid gripped the tier behind her for support, no longer able to stand by using her protesting muscles.

The seats disappeared as before and under the cover of the commotion created by appearing waiters, solidifying dance floor and reappearing chairs Hermione fought her way out of the crowd that had began to swarm towards the married couple and made her way unsteadily beyond the white tent.

She was able to reach the obscuring shadow of a tree before she collapsed onto the ground.

Taking out her wand she pulled up the skirt of her dress to examine the damage. Little pinpricks of blood could be seen on the top layers of dressing but as she unwound the cover it was apparent that the bleeding, although intense at the moment of pain, as was indicated by it's ability to seep through the thick layers, had ceased. The area was red and raw and tender to the touch but the bleeding had at least abated.

The reaction still worried her. Would it happen every time they kissed? Or was it a result of their binding and a release of his bond with her? For once she had no clue. Remus had never gotten around to explaining their connection in anymore detail to her.

She used her wand to clean the bandage and with another flick of her wrist it was winding itself back around her leg.

She stood up cautiously testing the weight she could put on her leg.

It was sore, but she could still walk.

She turned with intent to find her way back to the assembly of people when she hit a solid chest instead of the air she expected.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, using his hands on her arms to steady her as she looked close to falling.

"S'okay," she returned with a tight smile. It was the best she could do.

"Are you alright?" he asked stooping his frame so he could match her eye level.

Her smile held a little more sincerity. "Just feeling a bit off," she assured.

"Okay," he accepted although his voice was still etched with concern. He pulled her arm into the crook of his elbow as he started a slow pace to lead them back to the tent.

There weren't as many guests as with the wedding the day before and so Harry had been allowed to keep his visage, Hermione was glad - he didn't make a very good Weasley, not to mention he was a terrible actor.

"I wanted to warn you as well..."

Hermione raised her eyebrow in invitation to continue.

He sighed in reluctance, "it's Ron."

Hermione sighed too. "Can he not do this now?"

"I know," Harry assured her that he was on her side for this one. "He's been going on about it all morning but I'll try to deter him for you since you're not feeling well."

Hermione pulled his arm closer, giving it a tight hug. Harry smiled at his small friend.

"Anything for you 'Mione," he whispered as they reached the tent and he took his arm back. "Don't forget we have to dance later," he winked at her as he put her in her seat next to Ginny and went to take his further along the table reserved for the wedding party.

She spent most of the night watching the world, distorted, through her full wine glass. She twirled the glass stem in her fingers trying to determine the identity of the people she could see through the bubbling liquid. Ginny was talking to her about something. She didn't know what but an educated guess would probably have her saying Harry.

The dancing had started not too long ago and she could see Ron's glances in her direction becoming longer and more frequent.

While her glass had remained full the entire night, although she entirely wished it could have been the opposite, Ron's fluctuated frequently and she was sure it wouldn't be too long until he would gather up enough alcohol induced courage to ask her to accompany him on a fumbling feeling dance extravaganza.

As if she held the script to the universe in her hand she watched him out of the corner of her eye as he took an extra long sip of his drink and stood, somewhat unsteadily, and set his slight swagger to her direction.

She couldn't have felt more grateful to anyone at that moment, unless they had revealed this nightmare to be a just that - a nightmare, as Harry stood up to intervene his friend.

Not wanting to take any chances Hermione made to turn out of her chair, contemplating whether she had yet spent sufficient time as to not appear too rude if she left.

She had barely swung one leg to the side of her chair, however, as a hand was placed in invitation in front of her.

Surely Ron hadn't gotten away from Harry _that_ quickly?

But as her eyes traced up the length of the arm it was not Ron that held out his hand, nor was it Harry.

"Would you care for a dance?" Remus bowed slightly as his hand stood enticingly in front of her.

She opened her mouth not sure what to say and unsure if she could say anything when the band started a new song and her head snapped towards them in recognition of the familiar melody.

She wasn't sure what the song was called; she only knew it as 'Lily's song'. On a battery operated cassette player that she had brought to the castle with her, Lily would pull out the small player and force her music tastes upon the small group. To be honest it wasn't that bad but the unfortunate part came with the fact that Lily had only brought along one tape. Unable to expand her collection by the selection of stores in the wizarding town of Hogsmeade they were forced into the repetitiveness of the 12 track music player and in particular _this_ song that Lily would choose to play repeatedly over the others. By the end of the first semester Hermione doubted there was one Gryffindor who did not know the words of this particular song, finding themselves unconsciously humming it's tune while they sat in front of the fire doing their homework.

"You played this to us, didn't you? On that record player, in our third year?" Hermione's head snapped back to meet his as he took her hand for himself and pulled her from her seat.

"Yes," he smiled down at her as he led her out to the dancefloor which was littered with couples. "It's an old favourite of mine. I tried to find it on cassette but could only uncover the record. Just as the same though."

"Mmm yes," Hermione wondered how she had allowed him to take her so easily from her seat and just what she was going to do now as he stopped before her.

She didn't have to worry as he easily slid his hand into hers and slipped another around her waist.

The song was slow and she found herself softly drifting towards his chest as they danced lightly around the floor. It wasn't long before her head had found a place upon her shoulder and she was fit snug against him.

She felt him lean his head into the matching place her shoulder provided and could feel his warm breath caress her bare skin. She was grateful for the crowded floor and that he had dragged her to the middle of the dancing couples, their twirling forms providing cover for something that would surely look inappropriate between a former Professor and student.

But the song ended too quickly and the moment with it, as the couples pulled apart to applaud the band he pulled her away from him as if he had just realized how close they had been.

Her head tilted as she studied his face. Before, when he was sleeping, he had looked so much like her Remus but now, even though still so much similar she thought she would give up breathing just to touch him again, there was something different ... something ...

"Your eyes aren't blue."

And they weren't. They were more grey. They at least definitely not the deep ocean swirls that she had grown so accustomed too.

"What?" Remus started drawing attention to Hermione that she had indeed spoken her thoughts.

She was saved the act of reply when Tonks pushed her way through the crowd towards them capturing his attention.

And like a slap in the face Hermione was pulled back from her thoughts into the reality that surrounded her. This wasn't _her_ Remus. _Her_ Remus had blue eyes. _Her_ Remus wasn't married. _Her _Remus loved her...

"Goodbye Remus," she whispered turning before he could see the tears that had threatened all night finally tracing their way down her cheeks.

After identifying Tonks as the one calling his name, he turned back to Hermione only to discover she was gone and so, ignoring the tingle in his skin that marked the places where her skin had touched his, Remus turned back to greet his wife.


	30. Chapter 30: What's Left Of Me

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

What does one do when their life is split in two?

When you are left not really belonging in either?

There is no place for you anymore.

You exist in-between, left to pick up the pieces of your demolished lives and uncover just what little their really is left.

If you find something worth holding on to you will hold onto to it with all your might, because in the end the worst thing about it all is ...

You are entirely on your own.

oOo

Hermione sat alone in the study of Grimmauld Place. Her legs were folded beneath her and a book open on her lap. The book was open to a random page, she had not really read a word of it's ink-laid knowledge. How could you trust books anymore when you have proven that they do not hold all the answers?

There were no books to help her now.

There was no one to help her now.

Her eyes were fixed unseeingly to the grimy window that looked out across the street of the neglected house. The small park across the road was hidden in shadows, the sun falling lower in the sky with every minute that passed.

The old grandfather clock chimed six in the evening, it's resonating chimes bringing the young witch out of her stupor.

Harry and Ron had gone. They had left at lunch and had not told her when to expect them back, probably so that she would not worry if they did not come home. She tried not to think of that, but she looked guiltily at the book in her lap, it's unread pages staring accusingly back at her.

She sighed heavily, closing the book and placing it gently on the small side table beside her. She did not put it back in the shelf. She would read it. She had too. It was for Ron and Harry. She _would_ read it. But after she had fixed something for dinner.

She rather thought she could go without eating; she certainly did no feel like doing such an act. But she knew she must, if not for her own health then for the sake of the small life growing inside of her.

She rested her hand on her flat abdomen as she walked down the steps from the study towards the front hall.

She often thought that the small life had been the only reason she was carrying on for. It was the reason she pulled herself out of bed each morning. It was the reason she made sure to eat proper meals, three times, each day.

But it was also the reason she was alone at Grimmauld Place, while Harry and Ron went out into dangers unknown.

No, they did not know of the small thing's existence but they _had_ witnessed it's awful effects on it's mother in the early morning's rays.

After a week of unrelenting morning illness they had declared Hermione 'too unwell' to go with them on any actual horcrux searches.

Permitted by the young men only to help in the 'research' side, Hermione was hence confined to the walls of Grimmauld Place as her friends left to search out leads without anyone to guide their reckless natures.

She worried about them but she actually worried more about how much she worried about them.

Hermione wasn't as disappointed as she should have been (as she would have been, before) to have been left behind in their adventure.

It wasn't that she didn't love them, that she didn't care about them or what would happen to them if anything went wrong, but she couldn't exactly put her finger on her source of apathy either.

She thought it perhaps to be consequent of her feeling of dislodgement from the world. She felt as if she didn't belong. Harry was sympathetic to his friend's dispassionate mood, thinking it connected to the mood of the war and the dooming sense of loss that was overshadowing the wizarding community in general, but he really didn't understand.

She didn't fit with _them_ anymore.

She swallowed these thoughts, pushing them away for later, as she moved towards the kitchen.

She stepped a little too close to the entrance hall as she moved across the room and she felt the cold prickle of the wards that Kingsley had placed on the entrance way.

The Order had known of the Trio's intentions for the continuance of some 'mission' given to them from Dumbledore. Although disgruntled, the Order accepted their unrelenting stance for now and suggested that they make a steady base out of Grimmauld Place where protection could be supplied by the Order and they would be contactable (working both ways).

Grimmauld Place was not the safest place anymore. The broken Fidelius Charm meant that the house was more vulnerable, but, as Ron argued to his mother, just as vulnerable as anywhere else, including the Burrow.

Kinglsey had hence placed, in addition to the normal protective wards, a rather disturbing ward of a startling sweeping figure in resemblance of the deceased headmaster that made Hermione shiver just thinking about it's deadened form that sort to distract and deter unwelcome visitors. Not to mention the one in particular 'traitor' whom the Order feared to return to Grimmauld's steps.

It was not the only protection they were given however. As soon as their honeymoon was completed the Trio would be due to welcome the supervision of Remus and Tonks. Harry was not so disgruntled by the pending invasion to their privacy.

Hermione just hoped they would be as elusive as Harry was expecting.

oOo

Hermione slipped on her overlarge T-shirt that she was using for a night gown and then slipped herself under the covers of her bed.

Her skin still radiated warmth from the hot bath she had taken.

She jumped up with a start.

_What was that?_

She wondered what had woken her. Or had she even been asleep.

She moved her legs against each other. They no longer radiated the warmth from her bath so she guessed she must have fallen asleep. _But then what had waken her?_

_BANG._

She jumped from the bed. The dull thud had come from below.

_Ron and Harry!_

Not wasting time to grab her dressing gown she fled instead as fast as her small feet and pounding heart would allow her to. _Please please be okay, I'm sorry I didn't read the book, okay? I'm sorry. Please don't be hurt. Please don't let me loose you too. Please, oh please. Harry! Ron! Oh my god, please be okay. _

She hurtled down the stairs her hair flying madly behind her and her feet not going fast enough for her liking. It was a sudden jerking stop that met her body as her feet froze as her eyes met the figure she finally found in the entrance hall.

His hair was dark and limp falling around and sticking to his face like he had been standing in the rain, although Hermione was sure she had heard not a single drop that evening.

He was crouching on the floor, almost curled up into a ball. He held his wand out in one unsteady hand as he threw a curse at an invisible figure.

"Go away," he rasped, his voice desperate and pleading.

She couldn't move, couldn't help but stare, as Severus Snape rocked back and forth like an abused child, his voice husky and worn as he threw another pointless curse at the figure that haunted him.

Finally brought back into the reality of the situation by a flare of bright orange sparks hitting the wall beside her with another resounding -

_BANG_

- she shifted out of the darkened stairway to try and catch his attention.

"Just say 'I didn't kill you'"

Severus' eyes flicked over to her. She was slightly amazed that he had heard her, she was sure that it would have taken more than that to pull him out of his shaken state.

He looked back at the figure Hermione could not see.

"I did kill you."

Hermione closed her eyes tight in fear of some horrible consequence of such an admission but when no horrendous pain filled shrieks met her ears she hesitantly peered out through squinted eyes.

Severus was leaning against the wall. Using the backdrop to pull himself up and resting upon it to compose himself.

She watched as he moved out of the hall and into the open space.

She was amazed at just how quickly he had recovered. If she had walked in just then she guessed that she would never been able to imagine the frightened child-like position he had occupied only moments previous.

"Hermione," his voice as silky as ever held no trace of the husky rasp she had heard as she entered.

_Wait had he just called her _Hermione?


	31. Chapter 31: It's Your Fault

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

She tugged nervously on the hem of her overly large t-shirt as she tried to think of a way to rationalize what she had heard, or perhaps convince herself that she hadn't heard it at all.

It was only when she looked up that she was forced to accept the obvious. It was his eyes. They pierced her very soul with their sharp black knives, scraping past any barriers she thought she had erected and seeing all of her. Judging all of her.

"How can you know?" the words slipped like butter from her tongue. And then encouraged by her focusing thoughts, more furiously she added, "How can _you_ tell? How can _you _know - when _everyone_ else -"

She stopped as her voice broke, her words cut off by her straying mind, it wasn't _everyone_ that she cared about, it was just the one, the one that above all should have been able to tell...

Severus still stood in the same position. Steady and silent, and judging with those hard black eyes. If anything he might have moved backwards from her. Pushing himself against the wall, wanting to be as far from her as possible, like she was dirty.

"Maybe it is my constant association with murderers, or being one myself. Perhaps it makes it easier to recognize one," he sneered at her.

It took her only three strides to cross the room, her hand raised above her to slap his cheek. He caught her before she could of course, his long thin fingers digging bruisingly into her wrist.

Ashamedly she whimpered under his cold malice filled face. She suddenly wished she hadn't crossed the room. Wished she had stayed away, that his face wouldn't be so close right now. That she wouldn't have to see how much he truly despised her ... how much he must blame her.

Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and he released her, throwing her hand away from his grasp with such force that she almost fell to the ground. She didn't, though she stumbled a little. Her tears chocked her throat and she raised her hands to her face, as much to wipe them away as to block the hateful gaze of the wizard in front of her.

She felt cold. She wished she had taken the time to grab her robe. She wished he would comfort her. She wished he would wrap her in his arms and take away her pain.

But he didn't.

They stood in silence; her erratic sobs the only break to the building tension of the room.

"How could you do this?" Was she talking about the headmaster or herself? She did not know.

She could see him raise an eyebrow, wise to the duplicity of her question. He choose, however, only to answer one side of its plea, "I did kill Albus. I will not deny it, but only know that there was more in play than what Potter witnessed."

"He asked you to it didn't he?" Hermione asked one of the suspicions that had been plaguing her every since Harry had described the pure look of revulsion that had crossed Severus' face as he had cast the curse.

Severus flinched visibly at her words, but did not answer. Hermione thought he need not have too, she could read him better than Harry could, she could see the pain that filled his very being even thinking of that night.

Severus seemed to have taken her silent acceptance as the prompt to end that particular conversation. His eyes hardened once more and his mouth moved, words slipping from his tongue like a well rehearsed speech that needed no thought behind its content.

"I have information for the Order, obviously I am unable to deliver it myself. Therefore, you will give it to them for me." His voice was hard and detached; she scrambled to right herself and allow herself to listen to his words, absorbing them as if it was one of his lectures. "I do not care for what you tell them _how_ you got the information. They might however be reluctant to accept the information from such a source as I for sometime, it hence might be prudent to leave my part out of this for now."

He had been looking ahead but now his eyes snapped to her.

"_I_ will not allow his sacrifice to go to waste. Make sure they get this and make sure they use it."

His eyes swept up and down her shivering form.

"How did you know that I would be here?"

"I didn't," was his short reply.

"But you might have died. They would have killed you on sight. Severus -"

"I had no choice...I had to try."

He pulled out a thick roll of parchment from his long black robes and tapped his wand to the scroll. She could see the words appearing as the concealment charm was lifted.

So absorbed was she in the magical scroll that she almost missed the movement that was Severus as he turned to leave.

"Wait. _Please..._"

He stopped before he reached the door but he did not turn to face her.

"Severus _please_," she talked quickly as if trying to beat him before he would change his mind and leave. "I didn't plan for this to happen, I didn't mean for it -"

"STOP!" he turned, his face was furious and it was more that than his words that stopped her flow of speech.

"I do _not_ want to hear one. More. Word.

"Lily is dead, and it is _your_ fault!

"I may have murdered Albus but I had NO choice! You, however, _knew_. You could have stopped it. And you didn't... You made your choice and I'm not sure if I can ever forgive you."

There was nothing she could say. Every word he had spoken was true.

It was her fault that Lily was dead. She had known, and he was right she had the opportunity to warn someone, anyone, yet she had done nothing... said nothing.

Severus was the more the victim than she could ever be, forced to physically commit the murder of his friend and watch as all those he knew turned their backs on him, ready to kill him on sight if he dared approach them.

Tears fell down her cheeks again and seemingly satisfied Severus took this as his sign to leave.

She didn't watch him go but she still heard his soft spoken words as he pushed the door open and stepped into the dark night.

"You said you would be there for me..."

oOo

"Mr Shacklebolt! - Ouch!" Hermione stumbled as her foot caught on the edge of a large box stationed outside of the library door.

She rubbed her foot as she stared accusingly at the heavy cardboard box.

"Sorry Hermione," Kingsley's rich warm voice soothed as he bent down to pick the box up and place it with the rest. A small pile was assembled outside of one of the spare rooms.

"Did you want something?" he enquired as she realized she had been staring at the boxes a little too long.

"Um - yeah..."

Kingsley nodded for her to go on as he leant to pick up another box and take it into the room, it looked heavy.

"Why don't you just use magic?" she couldn't help but ask as the Auror set the box down inside and appeared again for another.

"Whatever for?" he asked genuinely as he picked up the next one.

Hermione shook her head to stop her gaze from straying to his rounded biceps for any longer than was necessary, for she suspected they had already been doing that.

Kinsley's melodious laugh filled her ears and she couldn't help blushing as she ducked her head in embarrassment settling her gaze on her hands instead and the thick scroll they held.

_The scroll! Right. _

"Ah... Mr Shacklebolt?"

"Yes, Hermione? And please, call me Kingsley," he smiled at her as he came back into the hall for his next load.

"Um thanks, ah...Kingsley," _stop blushing_! "But actually I have...something, for you, and ah...well the Order I guess."

"Mmm?" Kingsley rested from his activity, leaning his elbow against the stack of boxes and giving her his full attention.

"It's from what Harry and I, and Ron I mean...well what we've been doing." She felt guilty about the lie but she hadn't been able to think of another way that night and she didn't want to wait any longer in case the information was time-hinged which it undoubtedly would be.

Kingsley raised an eyebrow as he extended his hand.

She looked confusedly at his hand for a moment before she remembered the parchment in clasped in her hands and hurriedly handed it over.

He unrolled it and she watched as his eyebrows continued to rise. She imagined that if he had had any hair they would have quite disappeared beneath it.

She suddenly felt extremely nervous. She hadn't read the parchment. _Should have read the parchment?_ Of course she should have - she had just given it to the Order - _but she trusted Severus didn't she?_ Of course she did. Her internal debate was cut off as Kingsley rose from the parchment, he had barely read and inch of its length but he seemed completely shocked and worried at it's contents.

"How did you get this?" his voice was stern and she felt impossible small next to him.

"I'm sorry, I can't tell you." She almost shook with nerves as he looked between the parchment and the young witch in front of him, deciding where his trust should lie.

"But you say this is, in a way, from Dumbledore? He asked you to do this?" Hermione gulped down her conscience as she spilt the somewhat lie, "Yes".

"Please, just please, promise to consider using it!" Hermione felt the need to reiterate it's importance.

He nodded slowly before he rolled up the paper. "If this information is correct, you have just saved unaccountable lives Hermione."

She nodded, hating to accept the praise for Severus' sacrifices.

"Tell Tonks I'll help her unpack tomorrow," Hermione flinched a little at her name but Kingsley didn't seem to notice, "I'm going to take this to the Order now."

"Thank you," she said, but he may not have heard her, he was already halfway down the hallway.

oOo

Boxes.

They were everywhere.

They were haunting her.

Reminding her that there was only one day left.

Just one day left of peaceful loneliness.

Harry and Ron came back, unharmed and horcrux-less.

She was just glad that they were safe.

She wanted them to keep her busy, keep her distracted, but unfortunately they didn't want to talk about horcruxes. Dejected from their unsuccessful search they wanted a couple of days to 'rest'.

Hermione couldn't really argue with them but now she was stuck with the boxes.

The damned cardboard articles that haunted her throughout the house and in every room.

She had been trying not to think of the day that Remus and Tonks were to be joining them at Grimmauld Place. She didn't know what she had wanted. Did she really not want them there? Or did she secretly hope that Remus, in everyday contact with her would realize her return. Perhaps, before her visit from Severus she had really hoped the latter. But now? What if he felt the same? She had left him. She had left him alone. She had lied to him. She was responsible for his friends' deaths, their betrayals. How could he still care for her? If he found out, would he be more likely to kill her?

She wanted to burn those damn boxes.

It was late in the afternoon as she sat in the library contemplating the best hex that would incinerate the book filled boxes that stared at her from the corner.

Frustrated she left the room and went to seek a place safe from their haunting presence. She could go back to her own room but she had been sitting there all morning and didn't really feel like going back there.

When she finally stopped her search she was outside of the attic. She smiled grimly as she remembered the room as the one Sirius would use to escape to, feeding scraps of meat to Buckbeak; she would sometimes come up here to sit with him too. They would sit in silence. Sirius had always treated her different then all the other adults, he had been so relaxed around her...

She brushed away the tears as she opened the door.

It was deep in shadows but she knew her way to the place they would use to sit.

Only there was a box in her way.

She screamed. Unable to bear it any longer. She pushed the box with all her might.

She was actually surprised when it did indeed bow to her pressure and topple on its side. She felt some surreal kind of satisfaction as she watched its contents roll out of its flimsily closed flaps.

She sat on the floor as she listened to the objects roll around and bounce of each other until they extinguished their momentum.

The commotion ended with a muffled thud as a small worn red leather book fell to its side.

The small rays of light that battled their way through the lone grubby window in the dingy attic illuminated the book's battered front and Hermione couldn't help but stare at it. There was something about the book that she couldn't quite place. Its cover was faded, the edges of the leather curled. It looked like a thoroughly worn and loved book. But at the same time it looked...odd. It took her a few minutes to place her discontent with the small object. Yes the red leather front was faded, the leather damaged by its years and constant handling, but the pages...the pages looked as new as they were bound today.

She barely remembered to breathe as she launched herself the small distance across the room, crawling towards the book... it couldn't be...could it?

As if they had been waiting for her touch the book's cover jumped to meet her hand as her diary recognized her magical signature and bared its pages for the first time in over 20 years.

She flipped through the pages; just enough to see that it was exactly how she had left it. Obviously the charm had lasted. Although it seemed to have been attempted, judging on the war-torn cover, the diary had survived untouched all these years. She put the book down as she reached to pull the box closer.

She sat in the attic all afternoon. When the sun set, she lit her wand to give her the light to continue. The box held her life. Everything she had ever owned in that time or even touched seemed to be within the box, all of her clothes, even some of his, photos, more photos than she had ever remembered posing for. There were some things that she would have to place in her hand, turning them over in her hand as she turned her memories through her mind before she could settle a connection to the thing.

She was confused.

What did the box mean?

Why had he kept all these things?

Did he..._NO!_ She couldn't hope, she couldn't wonder, she couldn't do that to herself...she had to leave the box.

But she couldn't.

Wasn't the box proof that he has at least _once_ loved her? To keep such little things, all that reminded him of her...

oOo

Harry found her.

Curled up asleep on the hard wooden floor of the attic.

He pushed away the box in front of her, not sparing a glance to its contents as fought his way to her through the junk.

She was sound asleep. She was clutching onto a man's shirt but when he tried to pull it away from her she seemed to grip it even tighter. Not wanting to risk waking her he allowed her to keep hold of the old shirt as he lifted her into his arms and carried her out of the drafty attic and down towards her own room.

He sighed as he laid her gently on her bed. She still clutched the shirt to her chest, her head burrowing down to brush against the material.

Harry knew something was wrong with his friend. _Perhaps it was wrong of him and Ron to shut her out of this horcrux thing so much?_ ...They were only trying to protect her.

Harry knew she hadn't been sleeping well. He had the room next to hers and could hear her tossing around during the night.

She looked so peaceful now though.

He swept a lock of hair away from her eyes and bent down to kiss her cheek.

She hummed contently in her sleep.

With a wave of his wand her blankets rose up to tuck around her and he left her to her much needed peaceful sleep.


	32. Chapter 32: It's All The Same Beside You

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

She smelt like strawberries.

No.

She smelt like raspberries.

No.

She smelt like vanilla.

Or Caramel, or...or... Merlin, it kept on changing. She just smelt _good_.

Remus stood at the kitchen bench. Hermione was next to him. She was making a coffee perhaps, he couldn't really remember.

He jumped a little when he accidentally stabbed himself with the blunt knife in his hand.

Stupid toast.

So absorbed in the scent of the young girl beside him he had somehow been buttering his hand for the last few strokes without even noticing.

oOo

He smelt like coffee.

No.

He smelt like fresh cut grass.

No.

It was more like the woody scent of a forest.

She hid her small smile as she thought of how appropriate the smell was for a wolf.

No matter what the name of his smell was, it was definitely _good_.

She jumped a little as her cup overflowed; the hot water flowing onto her hand that held the handle.

"Ow," she said reflexively as she let go of the instruments and held her hand to her chest.

"Let me see," came the deep voice beside her.

She gave her hand willingly, watching his hands rather than his face as he examined the small red mark on her skin.

He had butter on his sleeve.

She watched almost dazedly as her hand was brought up and she felt rather than saw his lips brush against her tender skin.

It lasted only the smallest second, one moment of pure euphoria, before he had brought her hand down.

The burn was gone.

She looked at him in confusion as he smiled indulgently at her, "All better?" he asked.

She almost missed his free hand slipping the wand back into his pants' pocket.

"Smooth," she smiled, half-jokingly.

"Always am dear," he winked at her just as Tonks entered the room.

She appeared to be wearing one of Remus shirts, despite it being nearly eleven in the morning.

Remus looked just as displeased as Hermione secretly was.

"What?" The pink-haired witch asked as she walked over to pick an apple from the fruit bowl that sat on the counter.

"Where are your clothes Nymphadora?"

"Ew Remus, please don't call me that, and I can't find them. Kings' made a complete mess of my stuff. I can't find a thing!"

"Oh," Hermione interrupted as she thought of Kingsley. "Kingsley told me to tell you that he would be by later today to finish up."

"Kingsley now is it?" Tonks said jokingly to Hermione. "No more _Mr Shacklebolt_?"

Hermione blushed unconsciously, remembering those biceps... "He asked me..." she said weakly.

"Tonks don't harass her!" Remus defended the smaller witch reflexively.

She only laughed as she walked over to the kitchen bench, ignoring the chairs, and lifting herself to sit on the table top, crossing her legs, their length emphasized by their bareness.

"So... two weeks unsupervised all alone in a house with two randy boys? Whatever did you get up to little My?" Tonks wiggled her eye brows suggestively.

Hermione was absolutely scandalized. She imagined her mouth was hanging open like one of those clown busts you find at Muggle fairs.

Even worse she could see Remus looking on with mildly concealed interest.

She huffed, incredulous at being asked such a question. But before she could express her deepest displeasure she was cut off -

"Wouldn't you like to know," Ron yawned as he picked up on the conversation walking into the kitchen and straight to the fridge, pulling out the juice and pouring it directly into his mouth.

"Ronald!" Hermione screeched as her hand tightened around her wand.

"Ouch," Ron dropped the empty juice carton as his hands went round to clasp his pajama clad bottom where the sparks now shooting from Hermione's wand had hit him.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist Mione," Ron scowled as he rubbed his rubbed his abused behind. "You'd have to take them of to do that," he mumbled lower, but still loud enough to be heard.

"I think that's quite enough," Remus interrupted as Hermione looked ready to risk a trip to Azkaban just to curse the redhead.

Ron took his chance and left the room as fast as he could without looking scared of the girl, his hand covered bottom undermining this attempt.

"So I guess that's a 'No' to the ménage à trois," Tonks asked all too innocently.

"Yeah I'd say it was a no," Hermione replied as she stormed from the room, the need for coffee long forgotten.

oOo

The days meshed together. There was little in between them to tell one from the next, even the weather seemed a stagnant dull haze of coldness. Had summer passed already? Or did it even begin? Harry and Ron were no closer to finding any soul pieces, no matter how much they talked it over it always came back to - the locket, the cup, the snake and something of Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's with no idea of where to begin on either of them. Even the identity of R.A.B remained elusive as the days turned to months and their circling ideas would lead them back none the wiser.

Tonks turned out to not be around that much. Hermione could only be pleased to see a limit to the pink and purple visage. Her bandaged leg would ache unbearably every time she could see the newlyweds together, even if their hands would only be touching. She was thankful that Remus seemed adverse to public displays of affection for she was sure the mild ache that her wound issued by a touch between the pair would only increase with the intensity of their visible affection. She hated the swell of her heart as Tonks would be denied the feel of his lips when she would drape herself across his lap in the afternoon only to be pushed away by Remus. He would have never pushed her away.

Hermione shook the memories of his demanding embrace from her head, trying not to dwell on the impossible.

In contrast to Tonks' constant absence Remus seemed to never leave the Black Manor. Hermione at first was wary of such a constant feature that was sure to haunt her even worse than those boxes. However as the days melded they seem to fall into an easy routine. Harry and Ron would leave and come in odd intervals, refusing to sit still for too long, and so Hermione often found herself alone in the house with Remus her only companion.

Her early attempts at trying to avoid him proved very failing and so instead she accepted his silent company, the days often finding both reading in the library.

At first she had thought _she_ had been doing it but as she was made conscious of it she observed him, at least, doing it also.

No matter where they were or what they were doing they always seemed to just...touch.

They would pick armchairs next to each others and she would lay her arm on the armrest closest to his. After a few minutes he would lay his on the matching side of his chair. Their skin would brush and like a magnet none could seem to pull away from the innocent hold of their bare skin.

Every opportunity for their fingertips to touch would be taken. Passing the milk at breakfast. A hand offered to help her out of her chair.

Her favorite by far was the way he would kiss her head before she left for bed.

It was so innocent, so _almost_ fatherly. But she seemed to live for the next moment when his hand would brush hers.

The only thing that seemed to mark the days for Hermione was the growing swell of her abdomen.

If she was right, and she often was, she gathered that she was no about five months pregnant.

Her stomach was curved, it's small spherical build soft but firm. She hid it with her clothes. But every time she stepped out of the shower and stood in front of the mirror she wondered if today would be the day where it had just gotten too big; that there would be no clothes in her wardrobe that could hide her secret. But every time she would just rub the place where her baby rests and slip on a T-shirt that, already too big for her small frame, would slide graceful over her extra curve.

When some days she would overly worry she would pull on a large sweatshirt as an extra cover; but no one ever noticed anyway.

She wondered how long it would last and what she would do when she could hide it no longer.

She thought of going to Harry.

She knew she would only have to ask and her best friend would claim her and the child as his own...but she couldn't do it. Poor Harry had everyone asking him for something. He was expected to save the whole world! She couldn't bear to place something extra upon his shoulders. He had too much to carry already.

She sighed.

There was only one option really, even if she didn't want to admit it.

She would have to leave...eventually, she would have to go.

If she stayed they would work it out. If she stayed he would find out. If she stayed...she would ruin everything. She didn't want to ruin anyone else's life. Remus was married. He had moved on without her. She didn't blame him; she couldn't blame him, because she had been gone for twenty years. It didn't make it any easier though.

She would go back to her parents...

She started to cry, the tears falling thickly onto her pillow. She curled up into a ball, her fists clenched tightly in the sheets.

She had never felt so alone or scared.

An owl tapped impatiently at her window.

Light flooded her room from the open blinds and she realized she must have fallen asleep.

She got up groggily; the dried tears tracks felt sticky to her cheeks.

She opened the window to allow the bird in.

The regal owl swooped importantly through her room placing the day's newspaper on her bed before retreating back through the window and disappearing into the clouded sky.

Hermione barely paid attention to the owl's proceedings as she moved towards the bathroom to clean the remnants of tears from her face.

She moved around her room, preparing herself for another day, completely oblivious to the heading screaming from the newspaper thrown so carelessly by the owl onto her bed.

'SIRIUS BLACK RETURNS'


	33. Chapter 33: Don't Ever Leave Me

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

It was another two weeks before Sirius Black was finally making his way back home.

After his miraculous return from the veil, falling through the stone archway to the bafflement of the Unspeakables, Sirius was taken for tests and medical exams before being presented with his pardon and within the day walking out of the Ministry of Magic.

His hasty release more than concerned the Order and the majority of opinion seemed to believe it a plot to obtain Harry's location.

Sirius was, for this reason, decided to be kept away from Harry and Grimmauld Place for as long as it took them to figure out by whom and how Sirius was being tracked. Hermione could only imagine the tantrums that would ensue at the Burrow, where Sirius was staying in the interim. If they were any worse than the fits Harry was giving them she truly felt sorry for Mrs Weasley.

Remus was barely seen during this time, only returning well after midnight when Mrs Weasley was forced to send him home.

The glimpses that Hermione did see of him however were clearly showing a younger man. He sprung down the stairs each morning like a child running to greet Christmas morning. A smile was never absent his bounding presence and although the expression caused the wrinkles around his eyes to deepen she thought he had never looked more like the man she had fell in love with.

She woke up on the Tuesday Sirius was due to arrive and vented her frustration on her wardrobe sending the tight fitting clothes flying across her room.

She was nervous ... excited ... thrilled ... scared. She didn't know how she would react when she could finally see him before her.

She settled on a dark purple skivvie. It was tight and without anything else on the round curve of her stomach was unmistakable to her condition. She truly adored the swelling of her stomach and wished she could show it off, but she couldn't so she reluctantly pulled on some loose fitting pants and threw over a too-large grey jumper.

She was glad her hair was manageable now as she probably would never feel the energy to sit and detangle the mess that it had once been but now she found herself with nothing left to do but wait.

She wondered down to the front lounge room and set herself in an armchair with a view of the entrance hall.

She didn't have to wait long.

She barely heard the opening of the door before Harry's deafening shout of "SIRIUS" had her jumping from her chair.

Escorted by Harry, like a puppy dog bounding at his heels, and Ron more elegantly clapping Sirius on the back they slowly made their way to the lounge room where Hermione stood frozen.

Hermione really couldn't blame Harry though, a large side of her wanting to do just the same and push Harry away, fighting for the man's attention.

Sirius looked just the same as the day he had left; devilishly handsome in a pair of worn denim jeans and a leather jacket thrown carelessly over a white shirt. His dark hair fell into his eyes as his smiled down at his jumping entourage.

"Why don't you go get dressed first?" He answered humorously to something Harry had asked.

Harry blushed as he looked down at his pajamas and Hermione would have bet (quite safely) that Harry had slept in that entrance hall.

"Right," Harry laughed. "I'll be down in ten minutes then. Come on Ron," he added as he bounded up the stairs eager to return.

It is not until they are completely left alone in the room when their eyes finally meet.

Hermione cannot stop the wide smile that blooms on her face or the tears gathering in the corner of her eyes as she finally surrenders to her the urge she has had since he entered the room and launches herself at him.

Not missing a beat he opens his arms out wide and she jumps into his embrace her legs wrapping easily around his waist.

"Mione," he breaths into her hair inhaling her missed familiar scent...

"Don't - Don't you ever EVER leave me again Sirius Black! Do you hear me? NEVER!" she manages to berate as her voice shakes.

He laughs softly but as her small fists pound into his chest he sobers. "I promise."

"I'll never leave you, I promise."

She sobs and holds him tighter.

Her arms wrap round his shoulders as she attempts to meld her body with his, some corner of her mind rationalizing that he cannot leave her if she just never lets go.

But pressing herself so close to him, her belly is pressed into his stomach and his eyes widen as he feels the hard curve of her stomach. His arms hold hers tight as he lengthens her grip around his shoulders and pulls her upper body out in front of him so that he can look at her face.

"Mione?" he questions uncertainly.

Emotions cross her face like the faced paced flickering of the slides of an old-time movie. Happiness. Fear. Guilt. And finally she looks back at him uncertainly.

"My?" he asks and finally giving in she wraps her arms back around him, crushing him firmly into her and confirming his query.

He returns the embrace if possible even stronger than her and they remain that way. Hours could have passed as they listen to each other's breaths neither giving any indication of ever wanting to let go.

Inevitably, as is the way in a house that constantly flows with people, they are interrupted by the sounds of someone walking down the stairs that will lead them to their room. Not wanting to share their moment with any one else they slowly pull apart. Sirius gently placing the small witch upon her feat, his eyes swim with tears and hers are no better but for the first time in a long while she can say that they are tears of pure happiness.

His fingers remain intertwined with one of his hands as his other lowers to her hidden abdomen.

"It is his isn't it?" He asks hesitantly, "Remus I mean."

She nods with the same hesitancy but knowing that she can't lie to Sirius, that she doesn't want to lie to him; appreciating the realization that she could now have someone that she didn't have to lie to.

"But -"

"Someone talking about me?"

Hermione jumps back from Sirius, letting his hand fall from her stomach. Fear grips her heart as she tries to catch Sirius' eye to plead for his silence but its too late, he has let go of her hand and is walking towards his friend.

Sirius claps a hand around his friends shoulder and engulfs him in a manly type hug.

"Congratulations mate, why didn't you tell me before?"

"Didn't want to ruin the moment you know? Sirius Black's great return. Didn't want to steal you spotlight"

Sirius scoffs but grins mischievously "Well, thanks but honestly - this is BIG. A guy needs to know these things about his best friend."

Remus' eyes are soft and warm... so happy.

"So when is the bundle of joy due?" Sirius looks back to Hermione.

She isn't breathing; _surely her heart must have stopped_. It was like a nightmare she couldn't stop; she couldn't wake up.

Unbelievably, at that same moment a crash signaling the upheaval of an umbrella stand is heard from the entrance hall and all three sets of eyes snap towards the open doorway to see Tonks stumble into the room.

"Well that would be her now!" Remus grins as Tonks makes her way over to the small party.

"Wotcher Black, Hermione," she nods to both before draping an arm across Remus' shoulders. "Whatcha doin'?" she asks more to Remus than the others.

"Sirius was just congratulating us on our marriage," Remus replied turning back to Sirius whose face seems to have turned an ashen white in a matter of seconds.

"You alright mate?"

"Um ... um yeah. Sure."

"Do you want to see the ring?" Tonks asked excitedly removing her arm from Remus' shoulder and thrusting it forwards to Sirius.

He ignores her hand completely. "Maybe another time," he says his brow furrowing in confusion as he tries to make sense of this weird scene. "You know what? I'm not actually alright. I think I'm going to just ... um ... I'll see you later okay? Congratulations Tonks." He adds as Remus looks at him in bewilderment.

"Well actually, technically, it's Lupin now." She giggles.

"Oh sure, yeah..." and he turns, the tips of his fingers trapping Hermione's wrist lightly and pulling her from the room.

He says nothing until they have descended the stairs and shut the door of the kitchen and even then he allows the deafening silence to lengthen between them until he speaks.

"What - _the_ _fuck -_ happened here?"

"When exactly did you come back? It couldn't have been that long ago, your not that far along" he mutters to himself.

"WHEN My?" he practically shouts when she still doesn't answer.

"HIS WEDDING DAY!" she screeches her voice cracking as she flails her arms. Tears streak unchecked down her face, rivers flowing to gather in the material at her neck.

"His wedding day," she said much more softly, slowly sinking to the ground as her knees became weak.

Sirius eyes soften and he rushes to hold her; bending down he wraps her in his arms. The position was uncomfortable for him and he began to worry about the small life inside of her, knowing that the stress was neither good for her nor the baby. He scooped her up and flicked his wand at a chair pushing it back against the wall and then transfiguring it into a long day lounge.

He sat down upon it placing her next to him, he lifted her bare feat onto the cushioned surface and let her rest her head against his chest as her tears wet his shirt and her arms crushed his torso.

"They were all dead. Dead." She muttered into his chest. "and I had no-one. No-one was left. And he - he - he was getting _married_."

She suddenly pulled back form him, her hands reaching up to cup his face and forcing him to look at her swollen eyes.

"Please! Please believe me Sirius! I didn't plan this! I didn't want to come back, I didn't think I was coming back, and I was going to save you, save them, _everyone_! But I didn't, and I didn't know, and I thought I would have at least changed _something_ but I didn't and now everything is so screwed up... No one knew, no one knows, and no one knows me anymore."

"Shhh... I don't blame you. By the sounds of it you _wouldn't_ have been able to change anything. Time is a complicated thing Hermione and it's not your fault." His voice hardened when she still shook her head. "Do you understand me? It. Is. Not. Your. Fault."

She sobbed. Great heaving sobs and his arms reached out to cup her face likewise.

"I'm here now. It's okay. I won't leave you. I promised you, remember?"

He held her and she cried, she cried for James for Lily for Severus for him and for Remus...

"No one else knows, do they?" he asked her stroking her hair and already knowing the answer.

He felt her shake her head against his chest and he sighed as he pulled her tighter against him.

"It's okay," he whispered soothingly as he rocked her back and forth lightly. "I'm here now, it will all be okay."

And no matter what her head told her she wanted to believe him.

It was all going to be okay.


	34. Chapter 34: Prettier Than Remus

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

"It's gorgeous," his rough fingertips caressed the swell of her bare stomach.

"You're gorgeous," he stood up from where he had been kneeling in front of her.

She blushed unconsciously as she slipped on one of her large T-shirts that acted as a nightgown.

She slipped her bra straps over her shoulders and pulled it skillfully through her sleeve shirt, throwing it to the hamper.

But now she was ready for bed and he would be leaving.

She didn't want to be alone again.

"Sirius," she stopped him mid-step as he headed for the door.

"Will you stay, just for tonight..." she gestured to the darkening sky visible her open window.

Remus had left hours ago. It was a full moon.

"I can't sleep and well ... it used to work before."

"I remember," he smiled gently as he moved over to her.

She looked confused for a moment before he bent to scoop her up.

She laughed as he carried her bride-style to the bed.

She almost fell out of his arms as he tried to both carry her and pull back the bed sheets.

"I'll have to work on that one," he chuckled as he laid her on the bed and proceeded to tuck her in.

He jumped to the other side of the bed and slid in beside her, tucking the sheets around himself so that no cold air could reach her.

They moved simultaneously towards each other; Hermione's back snuggled against his soft cotton shirt and his hands wrapping softly around her middle, cradling their extra companion.

"I'm worried about Harry," she whispered to him in the darkened room.

"I know, but I'm here to help him now too... we've got one less down now don't we?"

It was true. After Harry's rash decision to tell Sirius about the horcruxes, one of which Hermione was at first completely scandaled by but now secretly wished to kiss Harry for, Sirius had immediately recognized the writing of the letter, having been the script of his younger brother. The locket was found to be right under their noses and they proceeded to destroy it, a dark mark in the carpet the only sign that a part of Tom Riddle's soul once resided in the Manor.

But they still had far to go.

"Mmm," was her noncommittal reply.

"You'll be here," he annoyingly read her worries easily. "I'll say it's mine."

"Sirius!" Hermione turned as much as his firm hold would allow, trying to make out his face through the dim light offered from the window.

"I'm not arguing on it Hermione." She couldn't see him but she could imagine his face was set in that adorable stubborn expression.

"How Sirius," she said softly. "You impregnated me when you were trapped in the veil? The math is obviously wrong, no one would believe it. How could it be yours?"

"Magic, darling."

She laughed, "You're simply impossible Sirius Black."

"Impossibly handsome?"

She snuggled back down into his hold.

"Mmm, maybe that too?"

He laughed into her hair and she fell asleep listening to his soft breaths.

"Aaahhhh!"

She jumped out of bed fumbling for her wand on the bedside table beside her.

"Oh Severus!" She breathed a shaky sigh of relief as she brushed her hair away from her face looking down, baffled at the still sleeping form in her bed.

"And here I was expecting you to jump out of there naked; I guess Black isn't as lucky as they all think." His sarcastic voice filled the empty room.

"You stunned him?" she poked Sirius confirming her suspicions when he did not move.

"You know Severus I really wish you would stop doing that swooping thing, seeing you hovering outside of my window really lives up to that rumor of you as a Vampire."

"Severus?" she turned back to the tall dark figure on the other side of the room, his unusual silence somewhat unnerving.

His gaze was settled on her, but not at her face.

She looked down to see the large shirt sticking to her skin, held close to her curves by the mold of Sirius' arms. Her pregnancy was undeniable.

She pulled on the material so it wouldn't stick so much, but it was superfluous actions, he had already seen all he had too.

"You ... you didn't mean to come back did you?"

She smiled bitterly, "Do I really need to answer that?"

They stood in silence. She shivered slightly not sure if it was because of a cool breeze or his cold gaze.

"I lost them too you know," she whispered daringly to the carpet at her feet.

A warm arm was at her shoulders and she was being pulled into his chest.

She closed her eyes, his touch meaning more to her than she could ever find words to express.

"I'll kill that fucking bastard," Severus whispered harshly above her.

She didn't quite understand but was just so glad to have her friend truly back.

He walked her to the bed but she stopped him before they could reach it her hand coming over her mouth as a bout of nausea threatened.

She held up a hand to stop him as he tried to move to help her.

"I'll be okay ... just give me a second."

"Hermione," his voice was rich with concern.

"Severus, I'm fine, it's just some dwindling morning sickness; it comes and goes."

He didn't seem satisfied. "You're too far along for this to be morning sickness Hermione. When was the last time this happened?"

Hermione's brow furrowed in annoyance; _since when was Snape a midwife anyway?_

"A few weeks I guess," she muttered as she steadied herself against his outstretched arm.

"Maybe around four weeks?" He prompted.

"Perhaps," she snapped.

"You do realize you doubled over right when you walked through the stream of light coming from your window? _Moonlight_ to be precise."

Her hand clapped over her mouth as her eyes found the round orb glowing through the glass planes.

She shook her head. _Nononononono...No!_

"Severus!"

"What can that mean? It isn't ... the baby ... it won't ... please, no?"

He sighed as he helped her move to the edge of the bed.

"I can't tell. No one can. But if it is ... it's awfully dangerous for you and the child, not to mention those around you."

She sniffled as she held her stomach in her hands.

"I'll make you a watered down Wolfsbane. If the baby isn't ... affected with the condition it won't be affected by the potion. The danger is if the baby is actually transforming inside of you -"

He stopped to check if she was ok but she waved for him to continue needing to know it all now.

"If not sated it could do some horrible damage inside of you. There is also the possibility that it could turn you too.

"Keeping Black with you is a good idea." He shot a brief glance to the unmoving body behind them.

"He can stay with you in his animagus form during your vulnerable days. The potion should help enough though. Let's just hope you don't deliver across a full moon..."

He looked to the clock in the corner of the room and swore softly.

"I'm sorry Hermione, I have to go," he pulled out another large scroll of parchment and tapped it with his wand before placing on her nightstand. "I'll be back with the potion next Moon."

"You will be okay," he hesitated for a second before quickly bending down to place a soft kiss on her head.

Like the bat that he was always said to be his cloak spread out like wings as he stepped out of her window and into the night time sky.

"Snivelus should really work on his stunning spells if he's going to make a good Death Eater one day."

She gasped as she turned to watch Sirius sitting up.

"How - how much did you hear?" she asked cautiously as she wiped the few tears that were growing under her eyelids.

"Enough. Come here, kitten." She crawled up to him and curled into his lap as he wrapped his strong arms around her.

"You'll be fine. And so will she," he smoothed a hand over her stomach. "Although lycanthropy might make it a bit harder to pass her off as mine ... Can we just say Remus bit her?"

She couldn't help but laugh at his serious posed question.

"You called her a 'her'."

"You just did too you know?"

She watched his hand rub small circles where the baby rested.

"I hope she's a girl ... you're far prettier than Remus."


	35. Chapter 35: Teddy's Input

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

"Watch this one!"

Hermione stopped her mixing of the batter to watch Sirius throw the pan to lift the pancake and flip it mid-air.

She clapped enthusiastically as the pancake landed neatly in the centre of the pan and Sirius gave a bow.

"Much better, it looks like you've finally got!"

"Knew I would!" he said gloatingly as he puffed out his chest. "Thirty-two has always been my lucky number."

Hermione grinned along with Sirius as they looked at the trampled sticky mess that the first and second batter had become, brushed across the floor and bench tops liberally.

"I think I'll leave that there a bit longer," he said after a moment of serious thought. "Shows my progress."

Hermione shook her head but let him leave the mess for now.

"Kingsley don't - I can do this myself -"

"Tonks I think you should wait it's not - Urgh! Black what _is_ this?"

Sirius and Hermione's attentions were drawn as Tonks and Kingsley entered the kitchen aka Sirius' pancake swamp.

Kingsley quickly stepped out of the mess, waving his wand to rid his boots of the clinging half-cooked batter.

"Pancakes?" Sirius offered, flip held in one hand and apron tied around his waist.

"Maybe not," Kingsley grimaced.

"Kingsley?" Hermione brought the Auror's attention away from the congealed goop covered floor. "I have a - another of -"

She pulled out the scroll that Severus had left the night before and watched as the man's eyes lit up excitedly. He took the scroll from the young witch before he hurriedly made to take his leave. He hesitated only when he reached Tonks standing by the door. "Just - Just leave it till I've dealt with this okay?" Hermione could tell he was torn between the importance of the information in his hand and the topic Tonks and he had been arguing upon as they had entered.

He seemed to accept Tonks' mumbled commitment but Hermione could tell by the way the elder witch's eyes did not meet his that, whatever they had been arguing upon, Kingsley had just lost.

Tonks remained in the doorway only until they could hear the front doors shut above them before she left the kitchen, breakfast obviously forgotten.

Harry was pushed out of her way as she pulled open the door and dashed back up the stairs.

Harry just shrugged at the odd behavior of the pink-haired woman as he blearily rubbed his eyes and stepped into the kitchen.

"Pancake!" Sirius shouted as he dislodged a pancake from the pan throwing it over his shoulder and towards the morning's new addition.

Harry had to stumble forward to reach the pancake in time and only just managed to catch it in his outstretched palms.

He held it for probably close to a total of three seconds before his eyes widened seemingly only just realizing it was hot and let it drop from his hands to join it's predecessors on the floor.

Harry rubbed his abused red palms as Sirius offered an apologetic shrug.

"Whoops, guess I should have thought that one through more, eh?"

Harry scowled a little at being taken advantage of in his half-sleep morning state but the scowl disappeared as he gave a funny little jerk, his expression turning into one of confusion.

"Um Sirius?" Harry asked his godfather whom had already turned back to attend to his next weapon.

"I think I'm stuck," Harry squirmed as he tried to prize his feet from the gooey trap set to his ankles.

"Come on pancake," Sirius teased as he led Hermione up the stairs. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Hermione scowled as she pulled another lump of batter from her hair.

"This reminds me awfully of another pancake disaster..."

"Mmm..." Sirius reminisced. "Blueberry weren't they?"

"You're unbelievable." Hermione shook her head and reached out for the doorknob to enter her room.

"No my dear," Sirius corrected as he pulled her hand away from the door and led her with a hand behind her back further down the hall. "_You're_ unbelievable. Trusting a Marauder _twice_ with pancakes? Shame, shame." He shook his head as he looked at her with pity. "And we're using my bathroom - it's bigger!"

As he opened the door and led her inside Hermione released that he may have been joking about the pancakes but he _definitely_ wasn't joking about the bathroom. The elegantly decorated cream décor stretched across the walls of the room, a bath as large as the one found in the Prefects bathroom was situated in the centre of the floor.

"Ohhh ... can I please take a bath Sirius?"

He chuckled behind her, "Ummmm... No. I don't think so. I was just going to let you wash your hands really -"

She slapped his arm playfully as she moved over to where the towels were stacked in a cupboard against the wall.

She picked out a large blue fluffy one before bending down to test the taps around the bath. She settled on the pink and cream colored bubbles that smelt like strawberries and stood back up to wait for it to fill.

"I'll go pick out some clean clothes for you," Sirius suggested as he turned his back to leave.

"Ok but make sure you grab the either the green or the grey jumper there the only ones that still -"

"Still fit - I know, I know." He waved at her over his shoulder before leaving her alone to her bath.

The bath was full within a minute later and so after removing the sticky clothes she sunk gratefully into its depths.

She sat for a while with the tops of the bubbles tickling her chin, just enjoying the feel of the water as she swayed her arms underneath the surface.

Deciding that she really had to wash her hair she sunk beneath the surface to immerse herself completely.

She scrubbed at her curls before washing the rest of her body likewise. The water felt wonderful to her aching breasts which had been annoying her gradually for the last month and so she stayed in the water, resting her head against the ledge.

It wasn't until the bubbles had almost gone that she really started to worry.

_Where was Sirius?_

She hadn't expected him to be more than five minutes. In truth, he had rarely ever left her side longer than five minutes since he had come back. But judging from the cooling water she would have to guess that it had been more than half an hour since he had left.

She lifted herself out of the tub as carefully as she could, not wanting to risk slipping around such a mass of water, with no one to help her should she fall, and picked up the blue towel that she had left near the bath's edge.

She wrapped the towel around her body but it draped obviously over the swell of her stomach and so not wanting to risk running into Harry or Ron should they be in the hallway she took the door to the right of the one that she had entered, that would take her into Sirius' room.

She barely registered the forms standing on the other side of the room as belonging to Sirius and Remus before the former had raised his fist back and slammed it squarely across the face of the other.

Remus clearly not ready or expecting the attack fell onto the floor with the force of Sirius' fist.

"What the _fuck_ Sirius?" Remus yelled indignantly from the floor as he wiped away the small drop of blood that had escaped the corner of his mouth. Both men remained oblivious to their new audience.

"How could you? Twenty _fucking_ years you mourned for her and I'm gone for _five_ bloody minutes and somehow you managed to fuck it up more royally than I could have ever imagined.

"Are you happy, Remus? Do you even know what you have done?"

Sirius shook his head and cut off Remus before he could even answer.

"No! You just go and knock-up my cousin -"

"If you would just listen to what am I trying to tell you -"

Remus stopped as he registered a small gasp coming from the opposite end of the room.

Both men turned to see the young woman, water dripping from the wet hair that hung around her shoulders and hands gripping tightly at the blue towel that wrapped around her.

Remus eyes locked with hers. Slowly, ever so tortuously they traveled down. She could see them lock with the swell of her stomach hidden beneath the towel. And then they moved, with the same tortuous speed down to the tops of her legs. It took her a moment to realize but the way the towel folded around her left a gap through which her wounds were evident - judging by his fixed gaze.

He seemed emotionless, if not slightly shocked, as his eyes absorbed her but she knew this evaluation of his mood was disastrously wrong as soon as his eyes found hers again. The pain they held was unbearable to witness. It made you want to look away as if the hurt that afflicted them could somehow touch you too, if only you would let it.

"Her - Hermione!" His voice was strained and his hands that held his body off of the floor trembled beneath him.

"Tonks is pregnant?"

Sirius looked at her, his eyes apologetic as he confirmed her question without words.

She nodded her head as if the information had settled something for her; and it had.

"I'm sorry," she looked at Sirius, but really spoke to both of them.

"Look after Harry -" her voice hitched in her attempt to remain together. "I just can't stay here anymore."

"Hermione!"

The cry had come from Remus but she shook her head, brushing his words away from her, trying not to let them touch her. _She was doing this for him, couldn't he see that?_

Now that she had looked away from him, she couldn't seem to meet his eyes again, she couldn't risk her composure, or she'd never be able to walk away...

And thats just what she did.

She left.

The room. The house. Her friends. The man she loved...

She left them all.


	36. Chapter 36: The Fairies

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Her parents were more understanding than she could have ever hoped.

Their only daughter had left them to join a war that they knew little about and that they would never be able to fully understand only to return to them six months later, eighteen years old, pregnant and distraught.

They welcomed her with open arms, held her while she cried and whispered words of comfort as best they could.

Sirius had come the day after she arrived.

Her departure from Grimmauld Place had been such a hurricane of disaster that she had been forced to leave all her belongings behind apart from the clothes she had pulled over her wet skin.

Remus had barged down the hallways right on her heels as she had fled to her room from Sirius'...

_"Remus let go of me," she shook off his hold on her wrist so she could open her door._

_She tried to push the door closed behind her but he wouldn't allow it. _

_"Remus, get out!"_

_He ignored her plea as he barged in and pushed the door shut, throwing a locking charm behind him._

_She heard the dull 'THUD' that signaled Sirius' unsuccessful attempt to follow. _

_Not wasting a second she turned her back on him as with a wave of her wand clean clothes came flying to her fingertips._

_She pulled on the yellow sweater without bothering about a bra and snaked on a pair of knickers before pulling on the soft cotton pants that she had taken to wearing during her pregnancy. _

_She cursed sending Sirius earlier to get her clothes as she couldn't find a jumper to pull over her rounded stomach which the sweater stubbornly clung to._

_Remus hadn't muttered a word since she had dropped the towel but now as she waved her wand over her damp hair and bent over the cupboard to pull out a large suitcase he jumped to action._

_"Hermione, please, _please_ just listen to me ..." his voice was shaky and she could tell he was crying without seeing the tears that rolled down his face. _

_"Don't leave me..." he begged, covering her hand that rested on the suitcase handle with his larger one._

_Her skin burnt with his touch and her only wish was to sink back into the chest that she knew stood bare centimeters away from her._

_But he was more than married now, he was having a child. _

_What right did she have to one woman's husband, one of her closets female friends' husband, to take away a child's father just because she too carried his babe._

_She would not be the one to cause the kind of heartbreak that racked her everyday to someone else, whom had done no wrong._

_She dropped the suitcase, freeing her hand from his grasp before she could change her mind._

_She whispered the charm to unlock the door and quickly left the room._

_Sirius jumped as the door opened in front of him but Hermione didn't stop as she raced down the hallway._

_She flew down the staircase, closing her eyes to the tears that were finally making their escape. She wasn't watching where she was going and was stopped when she ran head-on into a warm chest._

_Gentle hands on her shoulders stopped her from falling but she knew who it was before she opened her eyes. _

_It was the feel of Harry's gentle hands on her stomach that startled her more._

_"Hermione?" He looked past her shoulder as he heard the rumble of her entourage making their way noisily down the stairs. _

_She cupped a hand to his face as her eyes held his._

_"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before."_

_And just as the two men fought their way into the hall she ducked around Harry throwing open the front door and apparated away as soon as her feet touched the first step._

After the state his daughter had been returned to him in, even without the pregnancy, Mr Granger had scowled at sight of the unfamiliar man holding his only daughters belongings on his doorstep.

He contemplated shutting the door in the man's face but before he had reached a decision he was stopped as a blur of dark chocolate curls flew past his face and his daughter launched herself into the stranger's arms.

"Hello, Mr Granger I presume?" Sirius extended his hand awkwardly around the small creature that was crushing his chest.

"Sirius Black," Sirius introduced himself as Mr Granger hesitantly took his hand.

"Please come in," Mr Granger offered as he saw it may be the only way to get his daughter back inside.

"Thank you," Sirius lifted Hermione's legs as they obediently wrapped around his waist so he could carry her inside.

"I'll be in the den if you need me Princess?" Mr Granger half asked his daughter who still remained glued to the man in his living room.

"Thanks Daddy," she replied without lifting her head.

"S'okay," Mr Granger smiled uncertainly at his daughter as he left the room.

Hermione still clung to Sirius as tight as ever and with no signs of her letting go he moved them both to the cream leather lounge and sat them so that Hermione rested on his lap.

"I'm sorry," his voice was heavy with guilt as he wrapped his arms around her, cradling the back of her head with his large hands. "I shouldn't have ... I just lost it ... I'm so sorry..."

"Don't Sirius," she raised her head from his chest. "I would have taken a lot to strike your best friend like that, you couldn't have possibly done it if you didn't love me so much, so please don't be sorry for loving me."

Sirius smirked at her logic. He bounced his knee making her jump a little in his lap. "Presumptuous little thing aren't you?"

She pouted her bottom lip playfully and he pulled her back into his chest resting his head on top hers. "I do love you though," he whispered to her.

At length Sirius lengthened their hold on one anther. "Harry expects me to cart you back, you know?"

Hermione shook her head. "I can't go back there ... I can't watch that Sirius."

She didn't need to say what 'that' was, the revelation of Tonks' pregnancy and the depth of her and Remus' relationship hanging painfully around them.

"You don't have to," Sirius spoke softly. "You should have seen Harry after you left. We had little choice but to tell him, at least some of what was going on, I admit that we didn't get very far into the explanation before wands were drawn." He stopped sighing as he stroked her hair. She waited patiently for him to continue.

"I thought I could have killed Remus when I found out, but I _know_ Harry would have, if given the chance. I had to pin him down so Remus could get out ...

"Remus isn't welcome there anymore Hermione and Harry and I want you to come home -"

"No! You can't - he didn't -" she didn't know exactly why she was trying to defend Remus but she knew deep down below her aching heart that he hadn't done anything wrong. "He didn't know about the baby." Her eyes filled with tears and she didn't make any attempt to stop them as they ran down her face. "It's not his fault! ... It's _my_ fault more than anyone's! If I hadn't of been so _stupid_ none of this would have ever happened ... I shouldn't have ...I don't want him to be alone Sirius. You shouldn't hate him because of this ...I -_I just don't want it to hurt anymore..."_

Her ability to make coherent speech was stopped as the sobs wracked her body and she fell forwards into Sirius as he held her close.

As her sobs diminished she became aware of Sirius' voice, a sweet symphony of soothing words in her ear.

"I'm such a mess," she mumbled into his ruined shirt.

oOo

Sirius had implored her to come home refusing to leave until she at least promised to consider it seriously. She had only agreed to consider but she knew when he promised to return three days later that she would be going back with him then. She just needed a few days to calm down, and let the others do the same.

It was the day after Sirius had left and she sat at the window seat in her room chewing her bottom lip as she considered the street below her. The smell of chocolate brownies wafted up into her room as she listened to the sounds of her mother bustling below her feat, somewhere in the kitchen. She could feel her baby kick inside her stomach and she wondered if it too could smell the chocolate. She smiled sadly at the idea of her child inheriting the addiction its father was known for.

It was a week day and her mother should have been at work but her parents had been reluctant to leave her by herself. Her father had taken the day before off and her mother the day present.

The door bell rang in the playful melody that her mother and she had picked out almost three summers ago. Hermione's brow furrowed as she tried to peer down out of her window. _Surely_ _she would have seen someone walking up the path?_

The angle of her window however wouldn't allow her to view the doorstep and she lifted herself up (with a little difficulty due to her growing size) with thoughts of going downstairs to see who had called.

She scratched that idea before she had left her room, the enthusiastic banter of her mother flowing up the stairs meant it could only be one of her mother's friends and she definitely didn't want to start the 'Oh my, when are you due' conversations that would only lead to accusing glares at her naked ring finger.

After the awkward conversations that had ensued when she had accompanied her mother to the local shops that morning Hermione was already considering slipping on one of her mother's old rings the next time she went out, if only to protect the muggles from the sting of her wand the next time one of them shot a pitying glance and her growing stomach.

She turned away from the landing to head back to her window seat when her baby gave her a rather large kick and she realized she could smell the brownies a lot stronger from where she stood.

"You know you are just going to make us both fat," she scolded her active child good naturedly as she headed for the stairs contemplating how to best sneak to the kitchen without garnering the attention of her mother and her guest.

She had just decided on her route as she was stopped by her mother's voice calling from somewhere behind her.

"Oh Hermione, do come over and see who is here!"

"_Mother!_" Hermione moaned under her breath as she turned slowly and headed towards the drawing room, her vision of them impeded by the half closed door.

"I heard that Hermione!" Her mother scolded her as Hermione tried to fight the urge to roll her eyes.

"And I saw that too. Honestly I thought I had taught you better behavior around guests - now, I take it you remember -"

Hermione's breath hitched as she finally paid attention to the man standing across the room. He gave her an uncertain half smile causing his blond hair to fall into his pale blue-grey eyes.

"- Mr Lupin. He used to live down street from us when you small."

"I'm _sure_ you would remember him. He used to mind you often when you were too sick to go to preschool ..." her mother continued oblivious to the looks passing between the other two.

"The fairies." Hermione spoke suddenly across her mother's speech. At first her mother looked simply scandaled at her daughter's sudden disregard for manners but as she registered what she had said she shook her head and sharply told her daughter to speak sense or not at all.

"The _fairies_, mother!"

"_Hermione_," her mother did not try to hide the roll of her eyes as her daughter continued to speak nonsense.

"It was you!" Hermione's gaze did not stray from the guilty looking wizard standing in her living room.

"Hermione, don't point." Her mother interjected.

"There were fairies in your garden. You showed them to me!"

She waited until he nodded.

"Do you know how much trouble I got into over that?" Hermione half yelled. She turned to her mother "You sent me to bed without dinner every time I mentioned them," and she swung her attention back to other. "All the children teased me at school; I hardly had any friends after that, they all thought I was a _baby._"

She bit her tongue, regretting her choice in words as soon as they had slipped out. Remus' eyes immediately locked to her stomach as her hands snapped to hide it at the same time.

"I'm sorry," she closed her eyes as she drank his words like water to dying man and she wasn't sure if they were talking about the fairies anymore.

When she opened her eyes again he was addressing her mother.

"I'm sorry for the deception, as you might have guessed I am in fact a wizard. I actually taught Hermione in her third year, though I doubt she remembered me from her childhood at the time."

"Oh but then you are _the_ Professor Lupin!" Her mother's eyes widened as she put together some of the information. "Hermione just adored you; she never stopped telling us what a good teacher Professor Lupin was. I half expect she had a school girl crush on you -"

"_Mother!_"

"Hermione dear, don't be such a -"

"Mother, stop it now -"

"It's quite alright Hermione -" Remus made to interrupt but was stopped by the deathly glare Hermione sent his way.

"Well I actually came to speak to Hermione for a moment if that's quite alright, with you Juliet?"

Her mother sent an annoyed glance at her daughter but nodded at their guest. "Yes of course Remus. If that's okay with you Hermione as well?"

Hermione smiled at her mother, mentally thanking her for the escape route but nodded her acquiescence as her mother turned to leave the room.

"I'll go make us some tea to go with those brownies. Peppermint Hermione?"

"Yes thank you mom," Hermione felt she might be needing something a bit more to settle her down after the pending conversation but settled for the peppermint all the same.

The minutes stretched out between them after Juliet Granger left the room, no one daring enough to make the first move or sound and break the air between them.

"You're pregnant." His whisper carried across the empty room easily.

"Yes." She answered needlessly.

"Do you want to sit down!?!" He almost jumped as he moved across the room to take her hand and lead her to the lounge chair.

"Yes, thank you. My back _was_ starting to ache a little." She smiled at his worried expression as he realized she had been standing the whole time and he had not helped her to sit down.

"I'm sorry," he gushed and again she was unsure exactly for what he was apologizing.

He backed across the room to give them space and sat in the chair opposite hers. She watched him run his hands through his hair as he tried to organize himself.

"I would have been here yesterday but I had some sorting out to do first." It was almost like he was talking to himself rather than her. This suited Hermione just fine as she sat in her chair clenching and clenching her hand, which he had touched as he helped her sit, trying to stop the tingles that raced up and down her arm.

"I'm _not_ trying to justify my actions, my stupidity ... and I am _not_ trying to get you back. You have every right to send me away and ask that I never see you again, which I will do if that is what you truly want of me - but you need to know first ... Tonks" he winced at the name, before sighing heavily and continuing. "I care for her but I shouldn't have married her. My heart was not in it." He shook his head as he spoke next, "I cannot blame her for what has happened, but that baby ... her baby is not mine."

Hermione could hardly breathe, she couldn't believe it. "Tonks' was having an affair?"

He nodded, chancing a glance at her through his downcast lashes.

"Kingsley intends to marry her and take responsibility of his child."

"But how?" Hermione interrupted, not at all shocked at the identity of the child's father but more of the impossibility of his intentions. "That's simply not possible! Wizarding marriages are not dissolvable."

"Yes." He agreed. "That would make it impossible ... if Tonks and I were married."

"Remus what are you saying?" Hermione yelled in her frustration. She almost slipped from the chair as she tried to get closer, not realizing that she had been gently edging towards him throughout his speech and she was already resting at the edge of her seat.

"If you had come back one day later I would have been married to her. But because you were there, because I had marked you ... it just didn't work."

"My mark?" Hermione's hand softly touched that spot on her leg that throbbed slightly with heat.

He nodded as he watched her touch the covered wounds. "Did it cause you pain that day, at the wedding?"

She nodded remembering the blinding tearing feeling as her leg burst open and she had had to escape the crowd to hide her affliction.

"At the end," she verified.

He smiled painfully as he saw the pain run across her face at even the memory. "I couldn't marry her, because I had married you. The pain that you felt was our binding rejecting the new one. The ministry records do not show Dora and I as wed. It was what I was confirming yesterday."

"Do they show us?" she asked uncertainly not sure what she wanted the answer to be.

"No," he answered as his eyes finally reached hers for the first time in their conversation. "It wasn't a legal binding," he explained. "I guess it's more of a permanent engagement," he gave her a small smile. "You would be the only one I could legally wed."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Don't be," he returned sincerely.

The silence returned as she contemplated all he had said.

At length she spoke. "So you lived on the same street as me?"

He smiled guiltily. "I just had to see if you were real; if I hadn't imagined you all along. I didn't mean to stay but I found a job nearby and ... after what happened to James and Lily and Sirius in Azkaban, Peter thought dead..."

She watched as a single tear escaped from his eye. "I - I didn't mean to hurt you like this ... please know that Hermione!"

His voice was chocked and she knew he meant it.

"I waited ... I waited for you ... I didn't know if you would want me - but I waited. But I didn't wait long enough ... when Albus - when Severus - it was the end of your _sixth_ year and I was so alone ... I'm not asking you to understand or forgive me. Just know ..."

"Do you still love me?" The words were out before she could stop them and now she waited between breaths as he looked up at her again, his eyes looked more blue then they had before but she thought it perhaps from the tears swimming in them. Her heart had stopped beating ...

"I'll never stop."

oOo

She opened the door of Grimmauld Place and waved her wand banishing the frightening dead form of the deceased Headmaster away.

Harry had run to the entrance hall upon hearing the door open. He stopped at the sight of his most dearest friend standing in the open doorway. His shocked look quickly turned to a humungous grin that lit up his face adorably.

"Your home?" he asked almost pleadingly as his voice wavered and his eyes pierced her as if daring her to deny him his best friend.

"On one condition," she tried to stop from grinning at his open love for her as she tried to remain serious.

She moved aside as her hand pulled the man, hiding outside the doorway, inside the entrance.

She looked up as she heard movement on the stairway and she smiled widely as Sirius grinned down upon her as she felt Remus move to wrap his arms around her middle and kiss her neck tenderly.


	37. Chapter 37: Letting Go Is Overrated

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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The war had ended more than four years ago; Harry defeating Voldemort in a spectacular battle across the Hogwarts grounds. Many lives were lost, but thankfully none of her closest friends and none of her family. Severus had been cleared by his contribution to the final completion of the war and the records kept by the Headmaster in relation to the particulars of his death.

There could have been no better outcome.

It had been an undesirable event in their lives in everyway but it had made Hermione appreciate the small things in her life.

She loved, for instance, the sound of her husband's breaths; a gentle melody that she would fall to sleep to and wake up to everyday.

She liked to watch him sleep and he never said anything to make her think it annoyed him, and he had caught her many times.

Perhaps it was the way the morning light hit his golden hair making it sparkle on his cheek where it fell that made her reach to touch it...

His eyes fluttered open at her hand's light caress.

She withdrew her hand from his cheek placing it beneath her own as she lay on her side watching him.

Not meaning to have woken him, she smiled guiltily as she watched his bright blue eyes appear from their slumbered hold.

She loved those eyes.

When she had first returned she had been disheartened by their dull grey overlay but it was almost as if every day she had spent with him since had somehow made them come alive once more; the result being the shinning ocean depths before her, more swallowing in their hold than ever before.

His eyes settled on her as he adjusted to the bright light that shone through the lace curtained windows around them.

"Have you been awake long?" His voice was husky and sent gentle shivers down her spine.

She had to bite her lip to stop from moaning, still amazed that his voice alone could provoke such a response, but somehow managed to shake her head gently against her pillow in response to his question.

"Good."

She hadn't realized he had snaked a hand around her until a gentle push on her lower back sent her body flush with his.

Her eyes widened for a moment as she felt his obvious arousal, previously hidden to her by the sheets, but closed quickly as his lips settled over hers.

In one swift movement he rolled them over so that he was laying over her moving his mouth down her jaw line as he settled his legs either side of hers.

She didn't hold back her moan this time as his mouth traveled over her neck wetting it with gentle swipes of his tongue. She tipped her head back, arching her breasts into his chest as her hands grasped onto his back, the pressure of her finger tips encouraging his motions.

"Remus!" she gasped as his mouth attached to one silk covered nipple.

He pulled the tip of her breast into his mouth sucking it in as his tongue swept gentle circles over the raised bud.

He must have decided the material was in his way as he pushed the thin strap of her silk nightgown over her shoulder. She felt the cool air hit her naked breast before he covered her bare skin with his lips.

She pulled her head upright as she watched him trace his tongue around the underside of her exposed breast as his fingers played gently with the nipple of the other.

She could feel her centre pulsing with heat as he paid special attention to the three little white scars that marked the pale skin of her breast.

Their child had given her those.

Three little white scars that sat around her nipple. They looked so innocent.

It was ironic to contrast those three small barely visible marks when compared to the angry red patterns that had adorned her leg. Those marks too had healed. Not completely but with Remus' presence over the years they had faded to pale pink wounds.

Remus had been the one to mark her, terrifying in his werewolf state, but it had been their daughter, an innocent babe, that had introduced her to their family's curse.

Their daughter had not been sparred her father's affliction and proceeded to unknowingly afflict her mother as well. A gentle bite as a babe will do when their mother's milk is not flowing to their satisfaction.

The babe though not in her werewolf state had been the trigger to Hermione's curse, not a dramatic transition but more a cumulative turning. After the birth of their daughter Hermione was still susceptible to the light of a full moon, nights spent in painful tremors as her husband and daughter were not their to give her comfort.

Remus had been inconsolable at the thought of either of his family sharing his burden but Hermione had been adamant that her final transition had been a positive rather than a negative, by now experiencing the full aspects of the curse apart from the actual change, the aspect that would keep her away from her family once a month, she was glad she would at least be able to share their moonlit affliction together.

Remus had softened to the idea after the next few changes were virtually pain absent and he and his wife were able to spend the night lying underneath the oak trees that lined their property as they watched their cub play with the grasshoppers that would chirp noisily as they jumped through the long grass.

"I love you Mione," Remus' husky tones brought her back to the present as his hands pulled her silk gown up the length of her legs.

He pushed the material over her hips and her eyes fluttered as she felt the heat of his bare skin brush along her quivering hips.

She obediently opened her legs wider as he moved himself between them.

She ran her hands along the curve of his back as he bent his head taking her bottom lip between his teeth.

She could just feel the head of his erection touching her entrance as his hands tightened on her hips.

Her eye lids drifted shut as he rested his cheek against hers. She could feel his muscles in his back tighten beneath her finger tips as he shifted, poised just on the verge of -

- when the door banged open noisily.

Remus jumped, jerking awkwardly and falling to the side as the sound of small rushed footsteps filled their room.

"I'm ready!" The excited squeal of their four year old daughter came from underneath her half-pulled on jumper as she ran to her mother's side of the bed.

"Through locking charms now too?" Remus raised an eyebrow as he half fell off the bed, a hand hanging over the side searching for his pants from last night and wondering at the same time if he had actually bothered putting any on before joining his wife.

Hermione nodded as she slipped the strap of her gown back over her shoulder and righted herself before picking up the squirming child who couldn't seem to find the right hole in her outfit for her head not realizing that her arm was already occupying it.

"Now what did your father tell you about knocking?" Hermione gently admonished as she helped her daughter fix her jumper to rights.

A soft head of sandy blonde curls popped out from the green knit Weasley jumper followed by the soft pout of full pink lips and adorable but obviously practiced puppy dog eyes. They were not the bright pools of her father's but the glimmering brown of her mother's. Hermione knew Remus fell for the child's practiced look all the time.

"He told me to knock, even if the door will open for me - but you _said_ that we could we go as soon as I was ready!" she added quickly before Hermione could interrupt.

"I did say that, didn't I?" Hermione considered the bouncing child in her lap.

"But your not ready if you haven't had breakfast are you?"

The young girl gave her mother a disparaging look as she huffily wiggled off of her lap and dropped to the floor.

"And your father and I will have to get dressed also, so -"

"_Mother!_"

"What was that Cassy Lupin?" Remus interrupted his daughter as she looked ready to stamp her foot and demand that they take her now, half dressed or not.

"I love you?" She added a toothy smile to the effect as she swayed her skirt back and forth innocently.

"I thought so," he jumped from the bed, pants obviously found and attached as the mother and daughter had chatted.

Cassy squealed as she saw his wriggling fingers reaching for her and turned to flee the room barely making three steps before she was swept up into her father's arms and tossed onto the bed as he proceeded to tickle her senseless.

"You've been spending too much time with your Uncle's Fred and George, you have." He laughed at her as she giggled under his fingertips.

Hermione left them to take her shower reappearing twenty minutes later to find them in the kitchen a stack of fresh waffles in the centre and chocolate sauce dribbling from their chins.

"Waffles and chocolate sauce for breakfast?" she stood at the doorway, her arms crossed across her soft blue cotton dress and her eyebrow raised at the two chocolate fiends messing her clean kitchen.

Her only response was two sets of matching pouts, so she shrugged her shoulders and took her seat at the small round table. "Pass me a waffle then would you?" she relented as she enjoyed their resultant beaming smiles.

It was another half an hour, or two billion hours as Cassy had counted, until they were finally standing at the fire place with floo powder in their hands.

Cassy was latched onto Hermione's shoulder, seated softly on her hip, as they entered the flames together.

"The Burrow," was all Hermione said before they were whizzing past grates and finally staggering ungracefully into the Weasley living room.

Large hands on her shoulders reached to steady her but she was quickly pushed back as her daughter leaped into the arms of the man with a loud squeal of -

"AUNT SIRI!"

Remus whom had flooed in right behind her caught her before she could stumble from the force of her daughter's leap.

"Aunt Siri?" Cassy lent in to whisper conspiratorially into Sirius' ear. "_Are you coming over tonight_?"

Sirius often accompanied the family on a full moon and he was more than welcome too by Hermione and Remus. Cassy simply adored the older man and often announced to her mother that she was going to marry him one day 'because poor Aunt Siri doesn't have a girlfriend'.

Hermione would indulge her daughter's sincerity and encourage her to ask for the biggest ring possible because 'Aunt Siri was loaded'.

But Sirius shook his head at the small girl in his arms. "I'm sorry pumpkin, I can't this time but I think I heard Harry say something about brooms this morning, how about we challenge him to a game after lunch?"

She nodded her head enthusiastically, "But I'll only be on your team if you can convince Uncle Harry to let us use his broom again. His broom is the best!"

Hermione had been scarred out of her wits the first time the word 'broom' was mentioned around her little girl but she had relented somewhat after Harry had explained the charms they would place on the toy version for her safety and after three years of the toy broom her daughter had demanded that she was ready for a 'real' one. Hermione had swallowed her fears as Remus had taken the child with him on his own broom. The charms he used prevented the girl from falling along with the strong arms wrapped around her waist by her father.

She trusted Sirius and Harry to be safe with her daughter whom absolutely adored flying with her Uncles, a trait definitely not inherited from her mother; Hermione knew flying was just not something she would ever understand as enjoyment.

"Hey," Sirius narrowed his eyes at the girl on his hip. "Why does Harry get Uncle and I get Aunt?"

Hermione could hear Remus laugh softly in her ear as their daughter sighed at Sirius' apparently annoying question.

"Because you have long hair, silly!" She put a small hand into his dark locks, letting the hair fall through her fingers till it reached his shoulder. "Only Aunts have long hair Aunt Siri!" She rolled her eyes like it was obvious.

"Oh my mistake. Sorry pumpkin," Sirius apologized as the girl wiggled her legs, a sign that she wanted to be put down.

He placed her on the ground as she turned to face him.

"I'm _not_ a pumpkin!" She tapped her foot impatiently at him.

"If you keep drinking pumpkin juice like I saw you racing Teddy yesterday you'll turn into one soon enough," he laughed as the young girl bit her lip and her shinning brown eyes looked up at him frightened.

"Is that what happened to Uncles Fred and George?" she whispered, her eyes impossibly large.

"No, love, that was,"

"A Hungarian Horntail,"

"Right scary,"

"Nearly nipped our heads of it did,"

"Made it out by the tips of our heads so to speak."

The twins came in from the kitchen, jumping into the conversation as if they were simply made of extendable ears.

Cassy however put her hands on her hips, an unknowingly miniature version of her mother as she had chastised the twins repeatedly in their school days, not at all pleased with their contribution.

"Don't try and trick me, I know it was pumpkin juice!"

"Sorry sprite," George knelt down to meet her stance. "I brought over the new stuff again; want to go turn Uncle Ron into an elephant?"

Her eyes lit up as she ran to take his offered hand.

"Yes!" she squealed excitingly. "You know? You're way cooler than Uncle Fred!"

"Hey!" Fred shouted indignantly as he raced after the retreating pair, completely oblivious to the exaggerated wink Cassy and George shared.

Sirius rolled his eyes affectionately at the young girl as he turned back to the couple behind him, catching them as they had one foot in the fireplace.

"You're not staying for lunch then?"

"No, Cassy's all yours Godmom," Remus stepped over the grate pulling Hermione into his arms as he did so. "We have some ... unfinished business."

Hermione bit her lip unable to stop the bright red blush from staining her cheeks as Sirius smirked knowingly.

With a swirl of green flames they were back in their cottage and Remus was chasing her up the stairs.

She squealed as he caught her from behind just as she reached the bed.

He picked her up as she laughed, thrashing her legs playfully in an attempt to make him let her go.

His arms tightened around her and he stood waiting for her to breaths to settle down.

"You should have realized by know Hermione," his breath was hot on her neck and she wondered if he knew how his husky voice was sending pleasant shivers down her body. "I'm never going to let you go."

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**If you've made it this far - don't I deserve a review? *makes puppy dog eyes***

**Hope you liked it as much as I loved writing it! :D **

**xx CharlotteBlack xx - & if you're interested you can check out my other fics at GrangerEnchanted under the penname CharlotteBlack  
**


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